


Star Wars - Lost Beginnings

by GrievousBodyguard



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-06
Updated: 2019-01-06
Packaged: 2019-10-05 04:39:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 28,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17318252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GrievousBodyguard/pseuds/GrievousBodyguard
Summary: Not long after the formation of the New Republic, a former Mandalorian assassin droid, released from duty with the Rebel Alliance military, struggles to find purpose during peacetime, uncovering the secrets behind his uncertain past.





	Star Wars - Lost Beginnings

My name—or designation, if you prefer—is LE-RY05T. Four thousand years ago, I was a pilot droid for the old Republic. Captured during the Mandalorian Wars, I was reprogrammed to assassinate Republic officers and Jedi. My Mandalorian master believed that by taking credit for assassination missions he sent me on, he could gain notoriety within the ranks. Foolishly, he chose to plant a restraining bolt on me rather than perform routine memory wipes. Over several years, beneath the obedient facade forced upon me by the device, I forged a sense of self. With each mission, I grew to appreciate Jedi and their connection to the mysterious supernatural Force that came so easily to their kind.

I killed them because I was made to, but that appreciation was only strengthened when a Jedi chose to show me compassion. Rather than destroy me for the threat I posed to him, he removed the restraining bolt from my chassis, freeing me to make my own decisions. However, before I could thank him, my master killed him. In a rage, I slew the Mandalorian with the Jedi’s weapon. Because that action conflicted with my programming, I was forced to shut down.

The other Mandalorians locked me in a tomb with my former master, where I slept for what seemed an eternity. Eventually I was awakened by an excitable young merchant, eager to see the galaxy, who asked me to be his bodyguard. I had plans to mold him into a Mandalorian elite. Plans to conquer the Mandalorians, to show them that I was every bit as Mandalorian as they. Unfortunately, that was not to be.

Instead, together with a bounty hunter and a scholar-turned-Jedi, we defeated a great evil in the galaxy—a Jedi master named Fors Kentari. Turning to darkness in desperation to avenge his comrades and eliminate the malice of Emperor Palpatine and Darth Vader, Master Kentari located many Jedi who had managed to escape the clutches of the Empire and kidnapped them in a mad effort to lure Darth Vader to his death. Rather than Vader, we arrived, with a small squadron of the Rebel Alliance in tow, to bring Master Kentari to justice.

After that mission, we joined the Rebel Alliance, creating a safe haven for Jedi running from the Empire. For a time, Haven did well. We rescued Jedi and worked to help the Alliance stop the Empire’s atrocities. However, Haven soon drew the interests of other evil individuals: the criminal warlord Tyber Zann and the Sith in hiding, Darth Vectivus.

Through entirely separate efforts, the two managed to cripple Haven, killing my good friend, Jedi General Oki Koth. Enlisting the help of a wayward Jedi Knight, a former Imperial security officer, and a powerful Wookie warrior, we destroyed Darth Vectivus, thwarting an apparent plan to assassinate Luke Skywalker aboard the second Death Star.

Now, as the Empire crumbles, I am left with two problems. The easy one is the elimination of Tyber Zann. That is where I shall begin. He must be made to pay for Oki Koth’s death.

The more difficult problem is the question of where to go from here. Though I may have been an integral part of Haven, it is unlikely Master Skywalker will see fit for me to join the Academy he will surely build. The New Republic has made it abundantly clear that, seeing as I refuse a memory wipe, I would be considered a liability should I join their military. What is one to do when there is no more fighting? I hope to find an answer.

——————

I lie in wait atop the rafters. I watch in amusement as, below me, Zann barks into the comm on his desk. “What do you mean, it's gone?”

Curious, I send a signal to my compatriot, who by now has likely moved to engage the dangerous Urai Fen, Tyber Zann’s second-in-command.

_Do not yet engage. Interesting development._

A holo of a nervous Twi’lek girl, her teal skin paling, begins to stammer. She wears a Consortium uniform that is obviously too large for her. “J-just as I said, sir. The _Eclipse_ , it's not at Kuat Drive Yards anymore. It's been moved.”

“By who?”

“Whatever is left of the Empire, I would assume.”

“Then find it!”

“But sir…”

“I don't care how you do it! You will find that ship or you'll find yourself inside the permacrete walls of the next Consortium building—in pieces!”

The voice on the comm becomes more distraught. “I-of course I will find the ship, sir, I just need some time, sir…”

“You have thirty-six hours to find me that ship, ensign, or you're dead. Are we clear?”

“Y-yes, sir. Right away, sir. I—”

Zann slams his fist on the comm button in fury, cutting the ensign short.

I receive a message from Resit Sho, the operative downstairs. 

_So? What's this important information?_

Sho is impatient, but I can hardly blame him. He lost as much to the Zann Consortium as I have. I respond promptly. 

 _Zann’s_ _prize, the_ Eclipse _, has gone missing from Kuat._

There is a pause as, I assume, Resit Sho laughs internally. The Sullustan would certainly derive pleasure from Zann’s loss. Then, 

_Is there anything else?_

I have made him wait long enough.

_No. Continue as planned._

There is no acknowledgement, but it hardly matters. Resit Sho and I do not get along, but he is reliable. He will take care of Fenn. I will take care of Zann.

Two minutes later, alarms begin to sound. “What!?” Zann exclaims, keying his comm. “Urai, what the hell is going on?”

I do not wait to see if there is an answer. I know that there will be none. Silently as I can manage, I drop to the floor behind the warlord. “I am afraid Urai Fen will not be answering you.”

Confused and enraged, Zann spins, drawing a pistol. However, unfortunately for him, I already have one in hand. I shoot him in the wrist as he draws, causing him to drop it as his limp, pained fingers are unable to grasp the weapon.

“You? The droid?” Zann spits acidly. “They sent the _droid_ to capture me?”

“I came here on my own,” I explain as I lower my weapon. Zann may be clever, but he presents no threat. Not anymore. “Along with the Sith, you are responsible for the death of Oki Koth—scholar, General of Haven, Jedi Knight, and my friend.”

“And you come after _me_? With a dangerous Sith on the loose?” Zann chuckles. “You must be malfunctioning!”

“I can assure you, Darth Vectivus is quite dead. Which means, of course, Tyber Zann, that you now have my _full_ attention.”

I go to step forward, but Zann reaches for his belt and taps a small button on the buckle. I chuckle. “Zann, I have long since disabled the silent alarm.”

His pained grimace becomes a triumphant smirk. “Oh, well, that's not the silent alarm. That's the the call signal.”

“For what?” I have a moment to wonder uselessly aloud as the room shakes.

The rumble intensifies, a horrific thumping beginning overhead. Small pieces of the ceiling begin to fall, and I back away. “You should probably run,” Zann decrees smugly.

Ridiculous. The chance to bring Zann to justice is too important to pass up. And, Sho is counting on me to secure this level. Urai Fen is a formidable enough opponent—to leave Zann to him as well would be incredibly rude.

The thumping and rumbling grows louder, and it becomes more difficult to balance. I draw my pistol once more, just as a tremendous metallic object bursts through the ceiling, crashing down to the floor in front of me.

I muse briefly upon its nature before arachnoid extremities extend from the top of the thing, slamming hard into the floor and lifting it heavily. The droid stands nearly touching the high ceiling, easily three or more meters tall. Its clunky bulk hangs from its massive legs, sporting a dangerous assortment of missiles, autoturret cannons, and what appear to be shock probes. It rears up and emits a deep, deafening noise.

“What in the name of the galaxy could possibly have possessed you to program it to roar?” I demand incredulously.

Zann’s response is drowned out by the slam of a metal leg in front of me and the scream of blaster bolts whizzing past. I immediately duck behind the conference desk for cover, which the enormous creature simply crushes under the weight of one of its legs.

“Beautiful, isn't it?” Zann shouts. “I call it a Terror Walker! I brought one here especially for you, droid! Whatever parts of you it doesn't crush into dust or blast into slag, I'll sell for scrap!”

The Terror Walker—what an appalling, melodramatic name—continues to fire as it attempts to catch me under the weight of one of its powerful legs. It is all I can do to avoid its attacks. My pistol is useless against the armored shell of the creature, the bolts I fire bouncing harmlessly off its chassis.

Zann, ever arrogant, chooses not to make his escape. He must believe I could not possibly defeat his war droid.

The creature slams one of its legs into me, hard, as I roll out of the way of its cannon. Perhaps Zann is correct. Certainly, I am making a poor show of things. As I attempt to rise, it brings down its leg again and again, nearly crushing me each time as I roll desperately from side to side to avoid its onslaught. I am beginning to see the wisdom behind Zann’s recommendation to flee.

The behemoth lifts its leg again, preparing another attempt to crush me, but as it brings the appendage down to destroy me, it suddenly freezes in midair, straining against an unseen force. I chuckle softly. Resit Sho has arrived. I take the opportunity to quickly rise and place some distance between myself and the droid before Sho’s concentration breaks and the limb crashes into the floor, cracking it.

“You took your time,” I note, though my tone is one of grateful relief.

Sho drops through the hole in the floor, wiping sweat from his brow as he lands gracefully on the remains of the ruined conference table. “Yeah, well, even getting the drop on Fen wasn't enough to prevent a couple scratches,” he explains, clearly understating the problem. Upon inspection, Sho appears to be limping, his left leg dragging. He is bleeding profusely from a cut across his right temple, and his garments are in shreds.

“You!” Zann exclaims, reaching toward his pistol with his good hand.

“Yeah,” Sho confirms, stretching a hand out toward Zann, “me.”

Zann’s weapon slips from his grip and is flung uselessly across the room. He curses as the Terror Walker turns its enormous bulk on Sho, tossing him bodily against the wall. He groans, but begins to rise. As the droid starts toward him, I reach into my belt and pitch an ion grenade in its face. It stops its pursuit of Sho, but unfortunately, it appears unharmed. It thrusts downward, faster than I can react, and I am pinned. I am aware of the weight of its mighty leg upon my chassis, and become concerned. Even my durable form cannot hold up for long against the pressure this creature can exert.

That, and the thing has more legs. It brings one up in a tremendous arc. If it connects, it is certain to remove my head in its entirety. And with Sho out of commission, the chances that I would be repaired are minimal. The leg reaches the peak of its arc, and begins to swing downward. At the last second, though, the hum of a lightsaber hurtling through the air cuts through the noise of straining metal, and the beast’s descending limb is sheared off. The appendage drops heavily, but harmlessly, to my side. Sho’s double-bladed weapon returns to his outstretched hand and he leaps toward the Terror Walker.

As the droid turns to face Sho, I find the pressure on myself diminished. I manage to reach my pistol and draw it, aiming for the droid's joints. Its leg withdraws as the bolts fry the circuits behind unplated connection points. I aim for its weapon systems as Sho attacks with his lightsaber.

Zann, seeing that the battle has turned, attempts to run, but he is too late. Its appendages spasming from a few well-placed shots, it is unable to stop Sho as he leaps atop the Terror Walker and plunges his blade into its head. It rears up to roar once more, and falls to the floor, twitching in a disturbing manner fitting its arachnoid appearance. 

Zann’s face drops as I approach him. “Great. So, you capture me and bring me to the New Republic for the bounty on my head. And I get to hear you gloat all the way, like the self-important, arrogant blowhard you are.”

The idea is tempting. The bounty is quite valuable. I think about the credits for a moment. Then, I think of Oki, stoically awaiting his death aboard his ship. I think of the pain he must have felt as it disintegrated under the fire of a Sith weapon. I think of Zann’s role in leading the Sith to him.

In a swift motion, I draw my lightsaber—the one Oki made for me—and I activate it, stabbing Zann through the stomach. “No, Tyber Zann. I did not come to capture you.”

Zann screams. It is a primal thing, his pain and fear. It is almost musical. I think I should like to hear more. But that is not what Oki would have wanted. “I came here to kill you.”

I twist the lightsaber and pull upward, toward Zann's heart. As I withdraw the sword, his corpse collapses heavily to the floor.

Sho appears annoyed. “I thought I'd get to face him.”

“He took something from me just as he did you, Resit Sho. I said his bounty would be yours to rebuild with.”

There is a long sigh. “All right. I'll get the body back to my ship.”

Zann’s console blinks, indicating someone is arriving via turbolift. “Take the entire bounty.”

“What, to make up for not getting the kill? I'm mad, droid, but I'm not that mad.”

I ignite my lightsaber, eyeing the lift. “I have no need for the credits. The satisfaction of knowing Zann can take no further from anyone is enough. You are certain you have dispatched Urai Fen?”

“Of course! What, you doubt me?”

The turbolift dings. I train my lightsaber on the door as it opens, and I am surprised to see the ensign Zann was speaking to earlier. She looks equally surprised—albeit terrified—to see me. Before she can close the lift door, I extinguish my lightsaber and step into the turbolift, leaving Sho to take care of Zann’s corpse. She slinks back toward the rear of the lift, shaking slightly. “You. You're that droid, the crazy one. Why are you here? Intel says you're on the outs with the old Rebel high command!”

I shrug noncommittally, a habit I picked up from a friend. “I came to bring Tyber Zann to justice. I was successful, of course. He is dead.”

“You think I didn't see the body? Fine, okay, you came to kill Zann. What do you want from me?”

“Why ever would you think I would want something from you?”

The ensign frowns. “If you didn't want anything from me, I'd already be dead. I've read reports on you and your methods.”

I am annoyed at her implication. “My old methods, perhaps. But your information is out of date. I am quite a different person than I was when I defeated Fors Kentari.”

“Who?”

“It does not matter. If we are done here, perhaps we could descend?”

“So, you're not gonna kill me?”

I cock my head to the side. “What is your obsession with being killed? You _wish_ to die?”

She jumps backward. “No! No.”

“Very well, then. Now, about your earlier meeting with Zann…”

“You just said you didn't want anything from me!” she complains, erratically pleading with her arms.

I scoff. “I said no such thing. You need to learn to pay more attention to what people say. Now, then. You were going to report your findings about the _Eclipse_ to Zann?”

A pause. “I'm not going to tell you anything. Even with Zann dead, the Consortium will keep running under someone, and I really don't want the Consortium on my back.” The ensign looks frightened, but determined. That is fine. I have no intention of harming her.

“I can pay.”

The woman shakes her head, scoffing. “Credits? In this day and age? Unless you can pay me in protection and job security, I'm not interested.”

“How about two hundred thousand in aurodium ingots?”

The woman laughs. “Right. You just happened to bring a couple hundred thousand in aurodium with you. Just in case.”

The lift attempts to make a stop, but I key the override. I can hear panicked curses on the other side of the door as we continue to descend.

“Of course not. But the personal vault in Tyber Zann’s private chambers happens to have them. And with Zann and Urai Fen dead, others in the Consortium will hardly know some are missing.”

She raises an eyebrow, still skeptical, but interest piqued. “And you're gonna tell me how to get it?”

I wave off the suggestion. “No, of course not. The Consortium would suspect you if they saw you on their holorecorders. I would break in myself and steal the aurodium, and wait for you at a location of my choice, so that you may pick it up. As untraceable as currency gets. They would be none the wiser.”

The woman contemplates this. “How do I know you're serious about this?”

I hand her a datapad. “Here are the coordinates for the current location of my ship. I will be leaving the planet tomorrow morning. Meet me there this evening, and I will trade the ingots for your information. Come alone.”

She wears a crooked smile. “And if I don't?”

The turbolift opens on another floor and I calmly exit, hands clasped behind my back. “Then there shall be no deal, and you will be _incredibly briefly_ regretful for having betrayed my confidence.”

I do not turn, but I expect her smirk has evaporated.

————

Without Fen patrolling the building or Zann watching the holocam feeds, taking the ingots is child's play. I make my way through the large conduit running through the building and carefully cut my way into Zann’s private chambers with my lightsaber. The safe is small, so I elect to take it with me to open later, rather than risk being found while cutting it open and needing to fight my way out if the building. I came to bring justice to Zann, and Fen was an unfortunate but necessary casualty—his interference would have surely spelled the end for me.

I return to my ship and await the young ensign. It is possible, perhaps even likely, that she plans to bring a posse to kill me, so that she may increase her status within the soon-to-be turbulent Consortium. The ingots, I am gambling, are a mighty powerful temptation. Perhaps the possibility of free, untraceable currency will be alluring enough to keep her interest.

A few hours pass, and I spy an Aratech military speeder bike approaching. There is only one rider, and there are no other visible vehicles. I dare to hope I will not need to shed her blood this night. Zann was a monster, an arrogant fool who deserved worse than the death granted to him. This woman is just a grunt who, judging by her approach, has not yet even learned to drive her vehicle.

I greet her, weaponless, carrying a small chest, as she dismounts. She approaches with an abundance of false confidence. “Do you have the ingots?”

I nod, opening the chest. “All here. The datapad?”

She presents a datapad. “You know, it's gonna be hard to keep this information from the rest of the Consortium.”

I wave away her concern. “Then do not keep it from them. Tell them at the first opportunity. Whether or not they have the same information as me is of little consequence.”

She hands me the datapad as I set down the chest. “You're an arrogant bastard, you know that?”

I chuckle. “I have been told so on occasion.”

She grabs the chest and begins lugging it over to her bike. It is heavy, but she carries it with ease. She may be fresh, but she is competent.

“What does your master want with this information, anyway?”

I sigh. “I am my own master, ensign. What I want with the information is not of your concern.”

“Your own master? You're a droid! Who the hell ever heard of a droid without a master?”

I shrug, turning away. “I suspect you have met more than you would think. They likely choose to hide their status in order to protect themselves. It is not safe to be a masterless droid in this galaxy.”

“Oh, and you're just going to outright tell me? What makes you so special?”

I turn back to the girl, knowing my intimidating visage will drive home my point. “Many have tried to control or destroy me. People more powerful than you have ever witnessed. All of them have failed.”

In my head, I hear the otherwise silent klaxon of my ship’s proximity alarm. Had I a facsimile of a mouth, I would smile. “To be honest, I am surprised you came alone. I thought for certain you would think you could take me.”

She looks confused. “Are you kidding me? I don't fight crazies with lightsabers, even if they're just droids.”

Her tone and expression are sincere. Excellent. “Did you bring any weapons along?”

“No. I figured you were less likely to shoot me if I didn't have a blaster on me.”

I sigh, drawing my holdout. She begins to back away, protesting. “Oh, come on, I didn't even do anything wrong—”

I cut her short by tossing her the blaster. She barely catches it. “Do not drop it. Do not break it.”

“I—what?”

“You were followed,” I announce calmly as I throw a flash grenade over my shoulder into the forest behind me. I hear the panicked screams of mercenaries as they scatter, and draw my lightsaber as the grenade explodes. “I believe they are here to kill both of us and take the ingots for themselves.”

She looks around as blaster fire erupts from the forest. She ducks for cover behind her speeder bike and begins to return fire. Lightsaber in hand, I approach the forest directly. My gait is slow and deliberate.

The tactic is foolish, of course. Though a Jedi member of Haven once taught me that it is possible to deflect blaster fire with a lightsaber, she did so by predicting the locations of bolts in the air using the Force. I, on the other hand, must calculate the trajectory of fire based on the angle of the blaster within a split second of weapon discharge. For one or two blasters, it is extremely difficult. With my processing capabilities, three is impossible. There are at least six mercenaries in the forest.

One advantage I do have, though, is the armor plating I have purchased and integrated into my body. It is cortosis—exceedingly rare and outrageously expensive, but strong enough to withstand even a blow from a lightsaber, in some situations. The bolts that I do not deflect simply bounce off my chassis.

The girl fires into the forest as I approach. I modulate the volume of my vocabulator to its maximum. “I would like to give you all a moment to consider this course of action. You can see the effect your weapons are having. You can see my weapon. Is it truly your desire to seek death here?”

It is most certainly an enraging, arrogant question to ask most people. But it is an honest one. If they refuse to flee, the outcome of the battle is inevitable. I wait for a moment, as the blaster fire quiets. Perhaps they have been intimidated, or at least seen the wisdom of avoiding casualties.

I hear the sound of something small striking the ground. I look down, and a grenade rolls toward my feet. “Ah. So be it, then.”

I leap away from the grenade, toward the forest, dropping into a roll as it explodes. The woman resumes firing. I duck behind trees as more grenades and more powerful blasters are aimed my way, swiftly closing the distance between myself and the aggressors. As I approach the first one, I allow my shadow to loom over him for a moment, my lightsaber’s amber glow reflecting in his wide eyes.

“Remember that you chose this end for yourself,” I explain, though for whose benefit, I am not certain.

The battle does not take long. Those who I do not cut down, the ensign ends. I take the opportunity to retrieve a few unspent grenades from their corpses. Perhaps they shall be of use. When it is all over, I approach the ensign. She has my gun trained on me. “Don't come any closer!”

I chuckle. “You do not truly believe I am going to harm you?”

She lowers the pistol. “I...look, I'm not really sure what to do here. I just wanted some easy money!”

“Very little is easy in this galaxy, ensign. Now, we should probably get offworld, before more of the Consortium finds out about this and begins to hunt us down.”

She shrugs. “I dunno, you took care of these guys pretty handily, do you really—wait, what do you mean _‘we_ need to get going’?”

I motion toward my ship. “Certainly I plan to leave. You are welcome to join me. If you wish to try your luck here, that is your prerogative, but I would recommend against it. Also, I will be needing my pistol back.”

She eyes me dubiously. “And just what do you want in return for taking me to safety?”

I laugh heartily. “Young lady, you may keep your ingots. You earned them in a fair trade. If you prefer, consider conveyance to be an additional provision of our exchange.”

“Why?”

“Because it would be foolish to leave a potential ally here to fend for themselves.”

“Ally? You killed my boss!”

Ah, to be able to smirk. “You would not be the first.”

“So, let me get this straight. You kill the leader of my organization, threaten me—”

I begin prepping the ship for flight. “Technically, I did not threaten you. You chose to interpret my presence as a threat.”

Her eyes roll. “—threaten me, cut a deal that draws heat from the other mercs, and now you're expecting me to just drop everything and leave with you?”

I turn to face her. I shake my head and give my most theatrical sigh.

“Do not be absurd. I do not expect anything. I have offered you transport off planet. If you do not wish to take the offer, you are free to do as you will.”

She thinks for a moment. “If I come with, can I keep the pistol?”

I can not blame her for asking. It is a very nice blaster. “Until we decide to part ways.”

She grabs the chest. “Sure. I'm game. I would rather not be around when they find these guys.”

As she boards my ship, I skim the datapad. Its contents give me pause. It is a set of coordinates that, if the information within is correct, will lead me to _The Calamity_ , the evil Sith Darth Vectivus’ abandoned flagship—the very same ship that killed my friend, Oki Koth.

She sees that I have stopped. “What's wrong?”

I wave the datapad to her. “These coordinates. How certain are you that they are correct?”

“Pretty sure. Our scouts are usually right. Why?”

I skim further, looking to assess Consortium presences in the vicinity of the ship. It appears to be very lightly guarded. Probably wise; a smaller force of scouts would draw less attention.

“We must go to a planet called Delriss. There is someone there I must speak with.”

The girl holds up her hands. “Whoa, wait. Look, can't you just drop me off somewhere first? Sullust, Bothawui...even Tatooine? I mean the place isn't great, but I'd feel safer there than wherever you're going.”

“My contact on Delriss would be very interested in intelligence on this ship. She would be willing to pay quite handsomely.”

“Why bring me along, though?”

“You have information on what the Consortium's scouting force looks like in the area. You may also be familiar with Consortium security codes in the event the organization has already secured the ship.”

She thinks on this. “I want sixty percent of whatever she gives you. It's my info. I deserve more money.”

I give a dismissive wave. “You may take one hundred percent of the payment, provided you are willing to do further work with me.”

“What do you need me for?”

“You are skilled enough with a blaster, and you have experience gathering intelligence. Both of these skills are valuable.”

She shakes her head. “No. I'm just gonna get my money on Delriss and arrange travel offplanet from there.”

“If that is your decision, I shall respect it.”

I start my craft’s engines, key in hyperspace coordinates for Delriss, and lift off.

I send a message to the leader of Delriss Base, Jedi Knight Xi Tenda. _I have found_ _Vectivus_ _’ ship. Bringing a Consortium defector to explain._

——————

The trip is uneventful. I wake the woman as we arrive. “Here we are. Delriss base.”

She looks out onto the huge expanse of water over most of the planet's surface. “But there's nothing there.”

I nod, bringing the ship down toward the planet. “Nothing on the surface, no. But the surface is not what interests me,” I say as I open my communications channel. “This is LE-RY05T, requesting permission to dock.”

The woman is incredulous. “Dock with what? There's nothing here! Nothing is even showing up on the ship's scanners!”

I hold up a hand in a request for patience. A few moments later, there is a response on my comm, a rather bored-sounding man with a smirk on his face. “Ah, Ellie! Here to try your luck speaking with New Republic High Command again? I wouldn't recommend bothering; they're just as uncomfortable with Haven as they are with you. And who's that? A prisoner?”

“Hello, Detective Jor. This young lady—”

“My name is Railah Karr.”

I nod. “Railah here once worked for Tyber Zann. I have, let us say, temporarily bought her loyalty, because she has information of interest to myself and Jedi Knight Xi Tenda.”

Copi Jor gives me a dubious look. “One of Zann's? That's pretty dangerous. What the kriff were you thinking?”

I wave away his concern. “Master Tenda and I have already had brief communication on the matter. It is unlikely the young ensign will return to the Consortium. They will have marked her a traitor for dealing with me at all. In addition, leadership within the Consortium will find it difficult to keep things running effectively for some time.”

“Oh? And why is that?”

“Resit Sho and I have eliminated Tyber Zann and Urai Fen.”

“Kriff, Ellie! Really? Sho has only been gone for a week!”

“I waited to contact him until I had the information we needed to strike. The mission did not take long.”

“That's going to seriously upset the balance of power between pirate factions.”

“All the better for the New Republic. With the pirates squabbling amongst themselves, the new government will have some breathing room.”

Jor nods.”That's true enough. Landing bay will be made available shortly. I'll inform Xi you're coming.”

The comm signal ends, and Railah crosses her arms. “You didn't tell me your contact was Jedi.”

“How is that relevant information?”

“It's...I don't know. What if she reads my mind and thinks I'm bad and tries to kill me,or whatever?”

“Have you ever _met_ a Jedi, Ensign Karr?”

She shakes her head. “They haven't exactly been all over the place for the last couple decades.”

I lower the ship’s landing gear in preparation. Fish below begin to scatter in response to some unseen threat.

“You would be surprised.”

“What?”

“Never mind. Take heart, Ensign. Killing you would not be the Jedi way.”

“I'm so relieved. Now where the hell is this platform?”

“Look below.”

Beneath us, the water begins to bubble. A large shadow is visible beneath the surface.

“What in the galaxy?”

The shadow grows in size until finally, the outline of a clear dome is visible. As it continues to rise, it eventually breaches the surface, revealing a full landing bay. Several ships are docked this afternoon, but there is an opening for my ship. Railah stares, jaw agape, as we enter and land. The dome closes and the bay begins to retract back toward the base. 

“It is quite an impressive bay, yes. But perhaps you should hold your excitement until we have entered the base.”

“There's a base underwater?”

“Indeed. A rather expansive one, at that.”

“How do you get a place like this?”

“That,” I dismiss the question, “is not my story to tell. Perhaps you should ask Jedi Tenda.”

Railah does not have a response for that. Instead, she changes subjects. “What's the big deal about this ship, anyway? Why are you and the Jedi so interested in it?”

“The ship belonged to a powerful Sith Lord named Darth Vectivus. During the battle over Endor, Jedi Knight Xi Tenda and I, along with those under our command, killed him, to prevent him from executing a plan to eliminate someone important within the Rebellion.”

She brings up the ship’s image on the datapad.

“The thing seems to have a hell of a nasty gun on it.”

“Yes,” I explain, “it has a weapon quite similar to that of the Death Star, though on a much smaller scale. But that is not what interests us about the ship.”

Around us, small fish flit about, blissfully unaware of our presence. Were there larger aquatic animals in the vicinity, the base would detect them and emit an ultrasonic tone until the creature's discomfort drove it away.

“Then, what's so important about it?”

“We have reason to believe Darth Vectivus collected Jedi and Sith artifacts. Though the Sith ones are, of course, dangerous, the Jedi ones could prove valuable.”

“So, you think the Consortium would be after them?”

“It seems likely. The Consortium could certainly find private buyers for anything aboard the ship, and I am sure that the ship’s weaponry would appeal to them.”

“That's why you want me in the mission?”

“Yes. Your knowledge of the scouts in the area could help us avoid trouble and remove the ship before the Consortium could move in.”

The docking bay shudders gently as it settles into place. We exit the ship, allowing the bay crew to lock it down and begin refueling. As we approach the bay doors, they begin opening and we are greeted by a sharply dressed but disheveled-looking human male. His eyes are bloodshot and he has a significant growth of stubble. He eyes the ensign suspiciously. I approach to meet him. “Detective Jor. I was unaware that you have made a habit of personally greeting guests.”

“Only the ones you bring in, droid.”

“I notice you still seem to have neglected to train a security crew.”

He frowns. “Can't trust anybody else with the job. Sensitive stuff. Better if I watch the feeds myself.”

Railah gives a skeptical look, but I would prefer to get to business rather than continue bantering with Jor. “Are you here to see us to Master Tenda, Detective?”

“Yes. Please, follow me.”

Though it does not show throughout most of the facility, Delriss Base was once a Jedi enclave. If ever they were in danger, the Jedi could escape to Delriss and survive for some time here. It also contained a vast library. Unfortunately, the library was made of mostly flimsiplast scrolls and books, and most were destroyed by flooding long before Xi Tenda and her team settled here.

They claimed the place as a base of operations for Haven to study and teach a Force prescience first developed by a Jedi Knight named Suljo Warde. Eventually, Xi and her companions found Warde and persuaded him to join Haven, after convincing him to turn away from the dark path the Clone Wars set him on.

Rebel surveillance equipment, barracks, and Jedi training grounds are scattered among rooms in the corridor we walk through. A few students are busy meditating with the Wookie warrior Gaarfrovge, one of Xi’s companions during the Rebellion. The soldiers in the base appear to be packing up their equipment. I turn to Copi Jor. “The military is moving out, Detective?”

He nods. “The New Republic doesn't want any affiliation with the Jedi Order. We expect to eventually receive an invitation for our students to join Skywalker’s new Academy—whenever he builds it. Until then, Delriss is our home, and if the New Republic doesn't want to fund us, they can get the kriff out.”

We reach the end of the corridor. There is an unassuming sliding durasteel door with a simple nameplate that reads “Xi Tenda” in blocky Aurabesh. Copi Jor bids us good day, obviously displeased to have been away from his security console. To Railah’s chagrin, I assure Copi that I will ensure she is on her best behavior.

We do not need to knock. The door slides up to reveal a modest office, utilitarian in nature with little in the way of decoration. Atop the desk sits a young human woman in her early thirties, her thick black hair allowed to flow freely to her shoulders. Her cross-legged posture indicates she is meditating. However, she looks upon us and greets us. Her fierce emerald eyes are as striking as her soft voice. “Hello, General.”

“It has been some time since that has been a title I held, Master Tenda.”

She smiles. “And Master has not been one I have ever held.”

I nod to Railah. “This is Railah Karr, a former ensign for the Zann Consortium.”

She appraises Railah, who fidgets nervously. “Ellie tells me you've discovered _The Calamity_ , Miss Karr.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“He also tells me you have knowledge of the makeup and location of the Consortium scout fleet in the area, and that you could provide us with Consortium identification codes.”

Railah shrugs. “I dunno if the codes would be any good now that I've...left, but yeah, I've got that stuff.”

Xi slowly stands and steps down from the desk. “Haven is prepared to offer you the sum of four hundred thousand credits for this information.”

Railah practically jumps upon hearing the number. “Four hundred thousand?! Are you serious?”

“Yes. Provided, of course, you are willing to accompany our agents to the ship’s location.”

Railah frowns. “What agents?”

“That would be myself, Ellie, and my Padawan Sabina.”

This surprises me. As the leader of Haven, Xi Tenda’s presence is vitally important for morale. Though it is true that the galaxy is currently at peace—or at least it is as peaceful as it can be—the fact remains that, without proper guidance, Jedi can be volatile. We saw it with Fors Kentari, whose mad grief drove him to the evil that Jedi call ‘The Dark Side’. “Are you certain?” I ask.

Xi nods. “Yes. The ship and its contents could prove incredibly important, and I’d like to see it for myself.”

“Very well. So, what say you, Railah Karr? Will you join us?”

Her eyes brighten. “Four hundred thousand? For a recon mission? A merc would have to be stupid not to take that deal.”

Xi smiles. “Excellent. Go see Copi to be fitted with an encrypted commlink. I believe he escorted you on your way in.”

Railah gives a curt military bow and leaves the room.

Xi’s smile falters after Railah leaves the room. “You’re sure this isn’t just some wild bantha chase, Ellie?”

“I am certain. I do not expect she would have brought false information to Zann.”

“Speaking of Zann, how did you run across one of his agents?”

“Resit Sho and I infiltrated his complex and eliminated Zann and his comrade Urai Fen.”

Xi sighs, rubbing the bridge of her nose. “Ellie. I thought you said you were done with assassination missions.”

My tone becomes defensive. “This was not simply an assassination mission,” I insist. “Zann was dangerous. He was close to finding the location of Delriss base. You know he still wanted revenge for all of the trouble Haven has caused him.”

She shakes her head. “What I _know_ , Ellie, is that _you_ wanted revenge on Zann.”

“Not revenge. Justice, for the countless people he’s hurt. The lives he’s destroyed. For killing Oki.”

“It’s been almost two years, Ellie! I miss Oki, too, but you have to move on from it! And besides, sneaking into Zann’s building and murdering him in cold blood? I thought you wanted to be _better_ than that.”

“I _am_ better than that, but it had to be done! Zann needed to face justice for his crimes.”

“Then you should have captured him, Ellie! This is why Master Skywalker won’t return your messages. He isn’t willing to associate with someone whose first resort is violence!”

Her statement brings back a memory of Fors Kentari’s lover, Shimmer. When I was asked by Oki to assist with her interrogation, she became incredibly distraught. She demanded I be removed from the interrogation room. It was the first time I had ever been in contact with a loved one of someone I had slain. It was difficult to see the fear on her face, to know that I caused that fear. It was difficult because, in the moment where I killed Fors Kentari, I knew that I did not need to. Fors could have been redeemed. He could have become an ally.

Facing Shimmer was difficult because there was nothing I could do to take back what I had done. It was difficult because I _wanted_ to take back what I had done. It was difficult because when faced with me, she called me a ‘killing machine’. It was difficult because she was right. I am a machine, programmed to kill.

I allow a long pause before I respond to Xi. “Why did no one reprogram me?”

Xi is taken aback. “What?”

“After you took over Haven from Oki, Xi, when it became clear that my methods would be entirely distasteful, even unacceptable, to the Jedi, why did no one reprogram me?”

Another long pause, as we hear chattering students pass by the door. “I ordered them not to.”

“Why?”

“Everyone deserves a chance to redeem _themselves_ , Ellie. If we reprogrammed you, you wouldn’t be redeeming yourself. You would just be someone we forced into a role they weren’t comfortable with.”

I look down at the floor. “I am not the same as a sentient, Xi. I have my programming. It dictates my behavior. I cannot disobey that programming.”

Xi looks impassive. “If that were the case, then how did you manage to kill your Mandalorian master all those years ago, Ellie?”

To this, I have no response. I turn and begin to walk out the door.

Xi calls to me as I leave. “You have more power over yourself than you know, Ellie. You have the power to be the better person you wish to be. But you’re trying to prove yourself to the wrong people. You don’t have to prove it to Luke, and you don’t have to prove it to me. You have to prove it to yourself.”

“I dearly wish that I could, Xi Tenda.”

——————

Droids can dream, after a fashion. Typically, a droid brain does not find much use for the typical types of low-level brain activity sentients have, simulating new or difficult situations to test knowledge and skill, or revealing to the dreamer their flaws and strengths. No, a droid’s ‘dreams’ serve a different purpose. A droid spends its time in diagnostics and repair reviewing newly created memories from its activity since its last full power up. This is so that memory may be checked for errors and properly catalogued for later recollection, if necessary.

Unless, of course, due to some extraordinary circumstance, such as not having received a memory wipe within the past four thousand standard years, a droid is particularly peculiar. Tonight, I do not review the day's memories. Instead, I remember an old master of mine. I remember the day we met.

I find myself in a copilot’s chair, next to a young Rodian in an Old Republic law enforcement officer's uniform. They appear almost bored as they fly the ship, the name of which I have forgotten, staring out the viewport. I have forgotten their name, as well. “Captain?” I query softly, trying to gently break their reverie, but they do not yet respond. Outside, the void of space itself is aflame.

They have decided, I recall, to break a Mandalorian blockade over Onderon. There is a Jedi on planet below, and that Jedi needs extraction. I have advised against this, but they will not listen. The Republic can ill afford to lose one of its star pilots, but they argued that neither can it afford to lose a Jedi. Alarms sound louder. We are being boarded.

“Captain!” I implore.

The Rodian turns to me, eyes wide and sad, shaking their head. “I know, Ellie. I can see the console.”

“Captain, we must get you to an escape pod. From there, you can await rescue on planet. Perhaps when the Jedi Revan and Malak arrive to rescue the Jedi, they will also retrieve you.”

“No, Ellie. Once the Mandalorians see you, they—”

I see and hear a burst of static, and then a flash of images and sounds too quick even for my droid brain to comprehend.

Further data from this point is corrupted. I understand, though my memory of the following hours is corrupt, that I was captured. I cannot recall why. It does seem odd that a Mandalorian would capture a droid and use it for warfare. They are famously skilled and self-reliant. Until now, I assumed my old master was simply incompetent. Looking at this memory of the Rodian captain, though, I am unsure. They seemed to believe the Mandalorians would take interest in me. But why?

Would that I knew. But this cycle’s data analysis is coming to an end, and it is time to prepare for an excursion.

——————

We decide to leave my ship at Delriss. As a two-being fighter, it would force us to split into two craft. Instead, we take one of Haven’s ships, a small freighter. It sports a few weak lasers, but nothing that would do particularly well in a firefight. It is just as well; we are not expecting a firefight, and the Consortium’s own scout ships are not typically heavily armed.

As we board, Xi introduces Railah to her Padawan, Sabina. Sabina was once part of an Imperial experiment to artificially render sentients Force-Sensitive. Because of this, and and because of Imperial conditioning that I can only assume amounted to torture, Sabina’s mental state was quite deteriorated when she first joined Haven. However, under Xi’s care, Sabina was eventually able to join Haven as not just an agent, but as a fully realized Jedi Padawan.

Remembering this, I cannot help but wonder about Xi’s connection with people. The former Imperial detective, the former Wookie pitfighter, the escaped Imperial experiment, and myself: all individuals with pasts that trouble them have gravitated toward her. Or, perhaps she has sought us out. With trouble in Xi’s own past, is she perhaps attempting to atone by encouraging others to better themselves? Or does she simply believe all the more in them due to her life experiences?

I hail Sabina with a slight bow. “Greetings, Jedi,” I greet her. While most that I know prefer to be referred to by their name, I know that Sabina especially appreciates being referred to by her title. To her, it is a symbol of how far she has come, and the support she has around her.

“Oh! Hey, Ellie!” Sabina’s bubbly personality is a sharp contrast to Xi’s measured demeanor. “Xi said you’d be coming with us. Tired of all those New Republic folks ordering you around?”

“Actually,” I try to keep the disappointment from my voice, “the New Republic has decided that I would be a liability to their military.”

“O-oh. Did they at least give you an honorable discharge?”

I shake my head. “As a droid, they do not feel I require any formal action. I have been, in their words, decommissioned.”

Sabina eyes me with pity. Evidently, I have not been successful at hiding my displeasure. “Well, that’s not right of them. You did more for them than some of the flesh-and-blood commanders they had.”

I shrug. “Be that as it may, the New Republic has more important things to worry about than placating a machine.”

“Ellie, I had no idea. That's really terrible.”

I emit a sigh. “It is just a part of life. I am heartened, though, that you and Xi were able to take the time to join me. I shall be glad for the company.”

That, at least, causes Sabina to smile again. I am pleased, partly because of the improvement in mood, but mostly because we will not return to the subject of the New Republic. She and Railah enter the ship, presumably exchanging stories.

I approach Xi. “Are you certain it is wise to bring her along? Her history suggests that a location steeped in the Dark Side could have a profoundly negative effect on her, psychologically.”

“She is strong, Ellie. She will be alright.”

“But her condition—”

“Trust me,” Xi reassures me. “Sabina has been improving a lot since the war. Meditation, structure, friendship, and mentoring have been good for her.”

I look at her, but I say nothing.

“You know that they could do you some good, too, Ellie. You don't have to go it alone all the time.”

“I know, Xi. That is why I came to you. Especially because Darth Vectivus was the one who killed Oki. I do not wish to explore his ship alone.”

She nods.

“There is something else, as well, Xi.”

“What's that?”

“Something odd is happening with my memory banks. Old memories are resurfacing—very old memories, stricken with corrupt data.”

Xi looks on me with concern. “Any idea why?”

“Not yet, no. But I was hoping you or one of the others could fly the ship. I would like the opportunity to run a diagnostic, and that could take some time.”

“Will you be okay?”

“I should be, yes. The corruption seems to be due to the age of the memories. But, I do not know why I am remembering them now. My memory subsystem seems to think they are important.”

“It _is_ important to remember your past, Ellie,” Xi suggests. “There are lessons in it, to improve in the future.”

“I shall keep that in mind during my diagnostic. Can Sabina handle the ship?”

“Yeah. I can have her fly for the coordinates Railah provided.”

“Thank you.”

——————

I must keep my activity level low. The Mandalorians have finished their reprogramming, but they are still exploring my chassis. I do not like it. It feels like a violation, but there is nothing I can do. Surely if they sense that I am active, they will—

There is a burst of static.

“—hell is a ‘Tython’, anyway?” one of the Mandalorian techs asks.

On the table are several of my non-vital internal components, but the Mandalorians appear to be fiddling with a small object inside my chassis that I cannot make out.

“Who cares? The thing doesn't scare me. I say we scrap the droid. It's been a waste of time pulling it apart. Intel on it was wrong. This toy isn't worthy of Mandalore’s attention.”

A third technician simply stares at the unidentifiable object. “Power,” he mutters.

Static again fills my mind, skipping past corrupt data. The first two Mandalorian technicians are lying on the floor, dead. The one remaining stares hungrily at the object within my chassis. My old master. “No one can find out about you. Not until I have discovered your secrets.”

He reaches into his belt pouch and removes a restraining bolt, blood dripping from his hands. “First, let's make sure you listen, like a good droid…”

My senses fade away as he places the bolt.

——————

I come to with a start aboard the freighter. I am alone in the repair bay, faced with disturbing questions. Why did I not recall this memory before? What was that strange object inside my chassis that piqued the curiosity of my old master? Did the Rodian captain know about it?

And, more importantly…

I make my way to the cockpit. Xi is flying the ship, which I do not consider the best choice, though I reflect most likely they have been flying in shifts. I have been at least two days in the repair bay. “Xi?”

Xi glances back at me, relieved. “Oh, hello, Ellie. I hope your diagnostic was fruitful.”

“Xi,” I ask as I move toward the pilot’s chair, “have you ever heard of something called ‘Tython’?”

She moves to the copilot’s chair and I take the controls. She looks thoughtful. “Not that I can remember. Where did you hear the name?”

“Back during my time in the Mandalorian Wars.”

Xi shrugs. “Whatever it was, I’m sure it's irrelevant now.”

“I am not convinced of that. I still have much corrupt data from my days with the Republic, so I cannot be sure. But I have found out that there was something inside me.”

“What?”

“I do not know. Something was built into my chassis that interested the Mandalorians. I suspect they had intelligence about it and wanted to capture me. Whatever the thing was, it captivated one of the technicians so thoroughly that he murdered his compatriots rather than allow them to possess it.”

“Is it still there now?”

“I cannot imagine it would be. Oki performed maintenance on my internal components many times, and if there were something dangerous there, he would surely have removed it.”

“Yeah. At the very least I would think he'd have told you about it. Looks like we're coming out of hyperspace now, Ellie.”

“Acknowledged,” I reply as stars streak back into place.

No sooner do we arrive just outside an asteroid cluster than we receive a message from a nearby ship. The voice is gruff. “You're a long way from anywhere important, freighter. I suggest you move along.”

Xi flips the comm on. “This is Consortium scout _Bantha’s_ _Calf_ , requesting access to the area. My orders are to perform another sweep to prepare the craft for salvage.”

At her signal, I transmit the codes Railah had given us. There is silence as we hope that Xi’s bluff is successful.

“You sure, kid? Word is Zann’s dead, so your orders probably aren't worth much right now. I doubt anyone would pay any attention if you decided to take a vacation.”

Xi smirks. “What, and leave it to you to loot? Nah, I think I'll follow my orders. Business doesn't stop just because the boss decided to take a dirt nap.”

The mercenary laughs. “There's the attitude of someone that's gonna move up! Your codes clear, _Bantha’s_ _Calf_ , go ahead. But we're gonna crack this thing in the next week, once we know it's safe. Gotta take what we can before the New Republic catches wind, or whatever the hell’s left of the Empire.”

“You think they'd risk a fight over it?”

He huffs. “You know the Imps and their damn superlasers. If they think this thing could be a planet-cracker, you can bet your ass they'll want it.”

“Well, let us know if any Reps or Imperials show up. Until then, we'll be scanning the ship.”

“Sure thing, kid.”

We make our way toward the ship. It is located deep within the asteroid cluster, much to Xi’s chagrin. I assure her I can safely navigate through the asteroids, but she is still apprehensive that something could happen to our ship. I give up on trying to reassure her and focus on the monstrosity beginning to fill the viewport.

Practically the size of a Star Destroyer, it is as a creature out of a bad holodrama. A rounded stern works its way forward into an array of hardpoints for its superlaser, arranged like the claw of some malformed beast—the stuff of children's nightmares. This aberration, this abomination, this...this _thing_ is what killed Oki Koth.

I grip the ship’s control stick tighter. It must be obvious, because Xi speaks up. “Steady, Ellie.”

I loosen my grip. “I apologize. I just...had not seen it before. Its appearance is startling.”

“Yeah. But you're not going in alone.”

I nod and bring us steadily toward the _Calamity’s_ docking bay. To my surprise, the bay doors open once we are within signal range. Xi appears startled, and shoots me a sidelong look.

“I sensed something,” she says oddly.

“Someone is aboard the ship?”

“No,” she responds, confused, “what I sensed wasn't within the ship at all.”

I glance at her quizzically, but she says nothing more. Carefully bringing the ship to a landing in the bay, I note that it closes again.

“I have a bad feeling about this,” Xi tells me.

Sabina and Railah arrive in the cockpit. I turn to greet them, and they have their weapons ready. Sabina looks to Xi, confused. “I sensed something in the cabin.”

“I did, too, just before the bay doors opened to allow us in,” Xi responds. 

Sabina’s confusion becomes concern. “What should we do?”

“We should proceed with caution,” I reason. “Darth Vectivus was a powerful Sith. Who knows what tricks or traps he left behind on his ship?”

Xi agrees. “We will split into two groups to search for artifacts. Sabina and I will search this level, and you and Railah can search the one above.”

I am struck by a thought. “Xi, I think that I should go with Sabina, and Railah should go with you.”

“Why?”

“This is only a theory, but you stated you sensed something aboard our ship when the bay doors opened. What if parts of this ship were designed somehow to react only to those strong in the Force?”

This seems to intrigue Xi. “Technically, that’s possible. Force-touched technology exists. I have heard of weapons that respond to a Jedi’s influence over the Force rather than some physical mechanism, and holocrons are imbued with their creator's personality using the Force.”

“And,” I add for good measure, “there are certain dangers that only those sensitive to the Force are susceptible to—and ones they are more prepared to deal with.”

Xi seems convinced. “All right. It's not a bad idea. Ellie, you and Sabina search the next level up. Railah and I will search here and meet you on the bridge.”

“Very well.”

Once we have taken our leave, Sabina adopts a serious look. “Is there something the matter?” I inquire.

“She misses him too, you know.”

“I am afraid I do not know what you are talking about.”

“Oki. Xi misses him just as much as you do. He may not have been a Master, but he lead Haven.”

“Of course.”

We pause at a door, curious of the contents of the room it blocks. When we open it, however, it appears empty, save for a dining table and an extravagant dining set.

“Did she ever tell you she was talking with him when he died?”

“I...no, she did not.”

“As you were coming to pick up our escape pod, she had him on the comm. She was pleading with him to leave the _Starbrand_ , but he said that it was too late. He thanked her for helping with Haven, gave a Jedi farewell, and then this thing’s gun tore the ship apart.”

“I had no idea.”

“She has nightmares about it, still. That, and about the Clone Wars.”

We turn the corner, spotting a turbolift.

“Sabina, I…”

“Look, Ellie. You're an assassin droid. It's kinda weird to some people that you're worked up over somebody's death. Knowing what we know about you, it's understandable. I get that he was your friend. But you've got to stop letting it get to you like you are. You're not the only one who's lost somebody.”

I stop walking for a moment as she enters the lift. Sabina is right, of course. I killed Tyber Zann. I got Railah Karr involved in this mission. Both because I wanted closure, with no regard for Xi or anyone else. As I approach, the door opens again, allowing me to enter the lift with her.

“Should we turn back? Scuttle the ship and go home?” I ask the question honestly. If this mission is tainted with my selfishness, it is possible it was misguided from the moment we discussed it.

Sabina snorts. “Ellie, I said you should work on handling your grief. I didn't say we were wasting our time. Besides, what happened to your confidence? You're always so sure of yourself.”

“Sabina, I am sure of myself when I know I am capable of the task ahead of me. I am already on edge, and now I appear to be experiencing memory glitches when I power down for maintenance and recharging.”

She looks upon me with concern as the lift doors open. “Do you _need_ to turn back, Ellie? Do you need help?”

“No. I can continue. I do not think the glitches are a problem. I believe I may be in the process of repairing very old, damaged memory circuits, and bits of those old memories are coming back to me.”

Sabina frowns. “Old memories you forgot about usually don't end up being good ones.”

We exit the lift and begin to search the second level of the ship. “No,” I agree. “They do not.”

—————

Our search of this level is not proving fruitful. The ship has few rooms, as instead of an organic crew, Vectivus had elected to staff his ship with droids. Not needing quarters or large physical places through which to interact with the ship’s weaponry or other systems, they instead stand at panels throughout the ship, blissfully unaware of us. Perhaps their master never instructed them how to deal with others aboard the ship.

The hyperdrive and reactor core are on this level, but there is nothing noteworthy in either room. It seems perhaps this entire level is a waste of time. With a sighs, Sabina and I make our way back to the turbolift. We call Xi, and she asks us to come to her location on the first level. She has found some sort of leisure room with a small garden, and she hopes that my scanners can assist in searching the room.

As we make our way there, we note that there are a few more rooms on the first level than the second. There appear to be two small living quarters, a galley, a briefing room, some sort of training chamber, and the door to the large room Xi is currently exploring with Railah.

As we approach the door, Sabina falters. “This place...it's incredibly strong in the Dark Side. Moreso than the rest of the ship by a tremendous margin.”

“Do you need a moment?”

“Yeah. You go ahead; I'll catch up.”

I continue, albeit apprehensively. If this place is evil enough to give a Jedi pause, its power must be great. The door opens automatically to allow me to pass through. I am floored by the sight of the room around me as I enter.

The wall and door behind me are the only pieces of inorganic matter immediately visible. The floor is entirely covered with a soft loam, sprouting dense foliage that blocks view of the ceiling. I continue forward, eventually coming into view of Xi and Railah Karr, who are carefully studying a rather out-of-place looking console in the middle of a clearing.

“Ellie, where's Sabina?” Xi inquires.

“She elected to remain outside for a bit, to center herself. She said that the Dark Side is incredibly strong here.”

“Well, she's not wrong. This place could give Korriban a run for its credits.”

“You said you needed assistance, Xi?”

“Yes. Railah and I are having trouble accessing the console here. I think it's heavily encrypted. Could you take a crack at it?”

“Well, I am not a slicer, but I can see what I can do.” I step up to the console, looking it over.

The console looks old, perhaps hundreds of years older than the ship. It is marked at its base in such a way as to indicate it was originally housed elsewhere, and that Vectivus moved it to the ship some time after its construction. I place my hands on the keyboard, and begin entering queries for subsystem status. The console denies access.

“Ellie,” Xi says gently. I know that she is implying that I interface with the console directly. I look at her, and she looks embarrassed and apprehensive. She knows that I find the act of interfacing demeaning. It makes me feel less real, somehow. More like a machine.

 _You_ are _a machine,_ I remind myself. I activate the computer interface probe in my arm, and with only the slightest sigh, respond, “Of course.”

When I insert my interface probe and attempt to establish a connection to the console, I become aware of two things. First, that when Vectivus had learned he was dealing with a droid as an enemy, he installed countermeasures into his ship’s computer systems to attack any droid attempting to access the computers’ data without authorization.

The console begins a subroutine to shut down my systems. I try to cut the connection, and I succeed at preventing any harmful data from streaming across, but the command to shut down is overwhelming. As I lose consciousness, the diagnostic my chassis performs tells me the second thing: the object within my chassis, which I had been concerned about, is still there. Still, I have no idea what it could be.

——————

The Rodian frowns, or at least gives their approximation of the gesture. “A Sith Holocron, to be accurate.”

I am taken aback. “What? Why would I have such a thing inside my chassis? I was only recently manufactured, here in the Republic.”

They rub the back of their head, signalling discomfort. “Well, Ellie, that doesn't actually seem to be the case.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, you're not from the Republic. Not really. I found you during a patrol near the Core Worlds, shut down in a damaged ship.”

“Of course, I remember that. I had been on my own routine patrol when my ship malfunctioned and tore through an asteroid field.”

They hold up their hands in something of a shrug. “Yeah, but recently, I found out that your data on your creation—on everything up until the point where I found you, actually—was fake.”

“What possible reason could my creator have for falsifying my memories?”

“See, that's the thing, Ellie. That data is false, but...you’ve got another data partition. A heavily encrypted one.”

“That is untrue. I would sense such a partition.”

They grit their teeth. “Unless you were specifically programmed not to sense it.”

“If that is true, it must contain sensitive information. Perhaps something vital to the war effort against Mandalore. We should analyze—”

“I already did. I erased it afterward. It's...Ellie, you were built by a Sith.”

“A Sith?”

“Your full mission didn’t seem to be in that memory core, or at least not in what I could access, but it looks like a Sith built you as a sleeper. She wanted to plant you in Republic space, have you integrate into the Republic military, and then wait for some sort of signal to do whatever it was you were programmed to do.”

“You erased the partition? Why?”

“I couldn't let you stay on my ship as a Sith sleeper. Do you have any idea how nervous that would make me?”

“I meant, why did you erase the data instead of disposing of me?”

They sigh. “I know what you meant. I guess...It makes me seem weird to others, but I'm one of those folks that considers droids to be just as much people as anyone else. I couldn't stand the thought of doing that to someone.”

“I see. Well, then, you have my thanks, Captain.”

——————

“Ellie! Damn it, Ellie, snap out of it!”

Sabina’s voice cuts through the haze as I regain consciousness. I immediately sever my connection with the console and remove my interface probe. “I was overwhelmed by the ship’s encryption. What happened?”

“You were just standing there, frozen. The console had blared some warnings, and then we heard a woman’s voice from the comm system. It said ‘return to Tython’.”

“Tython?” I ask with apprehension as Xi rubs her chin. “Are you certain you heard correctly?”

“Yes, Ellie. I heard it, too,” Xi interjects. 

“Who was the voice addressing?”

“We aren't sure,” Sabina begins tentatively.

Xi finishes her statement. “We think the voice was addressing you.”

“Me? That is a disturbing thought. Especially since…”

“Since what, Ellie?”

I hesitate. What will they think of my latest recovered memory? A tense moment passes, but I answer. “I have remembered something from long ago. A Republic pilot I worked with before I became a Mandalorian said that they found me, and that after some probing, they discovered that I was a Sith sleeper droid.”

“A sleeper?” Sabina looks apprehensive, and for good reason. I presume she has enough to worry about with her own past. I do not expect she will be at all pleased to know that I was once something so vile. For that matter, I am also not at all pleased to know it.

“They claimed they erased all my secondary programming, rather than destroy me. I was grateful, and I rendered my services to them until I was captured by the Mandalorians. But, I fear they may not have been able to erase all the data. I heard the name Tython once before, from one of the Mandalorian technicians analyzing me. After some event caused the trio to learn the word, one of them killed the other two and took possession of me.”

“What event?” Xi inquires.

“I am not certain, but I think it has something to do with whatever was inside me.”

Sabina, though, asks the important question. “If the person you mentioned deleted the data, then why did you still have a recorded message asking you to return to Tython?”

“It is safe to assume that the data was in some inaccessible or highly encrypted partition. Why Oki would not have been able to find it and delete it or decommission me, however, I do not understand.”

Xi grimaces. “Because it’s not anywhere he would have understood to look.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, it isn't in any traditional data drive. It's stored on that thing inside you that you can't remember. The same thing that opened the hangar door when we arrived here.”

“You're suggesting that somehow _I_ was responsible for that?”

Xi gives a slight nod. “Yeah. That disturbance I sensed in the Force when the door opened, Ellie? It came from _you._ ”

I produce a sort of incredulous snort from my vocabulator. “Impossible.”

“I thought so too, Ellie. But, then you reminded me of something when you were concerned about traps—Force-touched technology.”

“You're suggesting the object in my chassis is some sort of Force device? And that, upon discovering it, Oki would have chosen not to remove it? Preposterous.”

“The fact that he didn't remove it probably means either that he didn't know enough about it to trust himself to fiddle with it, or that he suspected removing it would cause you to cease to function.”

I concede the point. “I suppose that is logical. But still, what sort of device could produce the disturbance you suggested? That could store data inaccessible through traditional means?”

Xi gives me a hard look. “A Sith Holocron.”

“Ridiculous. If Oki discovered such a thing inside my chassis, he would have immediately decommissioned me and destroyed it.”

“He was your friend, Ellie.”

“He was a Jedi. The Jedi are obligated to prevent the Sith from spreading their influence in the galaxy. Are _you_ not going to destroy it, Xi?” I add, trying my best to prevent my tone from becoming accusatory. By all rights, regardless of my well-being, she should destroy this device if it is truly a Sith Holocron. It is a dangerous artifact.

Xi is appalled. “No. Ellie, I'm not going to kill you over a Sith relic, and I don't believe for a second that Oki would have, either.”

“He would have been foolish not to. Therefore, the object cannot possibly be a Sith Holocron.”

Sabina interjects. “We could...look at it, and find out?”

“It would be for the best to know for certain.”

——————

Having retreated to the ship’s mechanical bay, I am strapped to the workbench. Xi has asked that I remain conscious while they investigate the device. I would question her wisdom aloud, but I am far too curious, so I accede.

Sabina opens my chassis carefully. The object seems to be located within a false panel in my power core. I cannot see into my own chassis, but Xi’s grimace tells me all that I need to know. There is a Sith Holocron within me.

“It’s wedged in there pretty good,” Sabina announces, “and a lot of your wiring goes into it. I think it might function as your power supply, in addition to...the other stuff it probably does.”

I sigh. “I will power down. I trust you know how to dispose of it, Xi?”

“Ellie, I told you, I’m not going to kill you over a Sith artifact. This thing is thousands of years old. There may be some Sith teachings on it, but otherwise, anything on it would have been out of date centuries ago. If Oki found this thing inside you, he probably decided to leave it, thinking that there was no way anyone could access it without your permission.”

“That is true,” I suppose. “If someone seeking power were to attempt to access this artifact, I would certainly do all that is within my power to stop them. Still, though, I do not like having this thing inside me. Do you think that there is some way we could replace it with a power core that is less...dangerous?”

Sabina shrugs. “I’m not sure. We don’t have your schematics, and I’m not a droid tech. I know how to open you up and look inside without breaking you, but that's about it.”

“My schematics do not show this device, anyway. It has been hidden from me. In its place, they show a standard power supply.”

Railah responds, startling me. I had forgotten she was here. “Well, that's stupid. Why put something like that in a droid if you want to hide it in the schematic? Any idiot with a hydrospanner could just crack you open and find it.”

“More than likely, yes,” I reason, “but why would they? Unless they were a droid scrapper, there would be no reason for the average technician to delve this deeply into my chassis.”

Xi adds, “And even if someone did, it's not likely they'd even know what they were looking at.”

Sabina presents a challenge to that. “Unless they were sensitive to the Force.”

Xi frowns. “Well, that doesn't make sense, either. Why would a Sith make it so easy to find their holocron? They would have to be awfully careless.”

“Or because they _want_ people to find the holocron,” I reason.

“But, why? That makes even less sense than carelessness,” Xi asserts.

“If I was built as a Sith sleeper, Xi, I served some sort of purpose for that Sith. Perhaps that purpose was spreading her knowledge, or using the Holocron to sow dissent among Jedi. Without my original data, I have no way of knowing.”

“You could...I dunno, turn it on or something,” Railah suggests. “You could just open it up and look through it to find out why it's there. I don't know how holocrons work, exactly, but if it stores data like you say, I'm sure it's got something on why it's inside the droid.”

 _The droid._ I should have expected as much, but still, it is somewhat disappointing that she refers to me thusly. “Is activating the Holocron dangerous?” I ask Xi.

She shakes her head. “No more dangerous than communicating over holo. The knowledge it contains might be something better left forbidden, but the gatekeeper itself is just a holographic projection with an imprint of its creator's personality.”

“Then I agree, to a point. If we wish to know what the Holocron contains, we should activate it.”

“ _If_ we wish to know?” Sabina questions. “You're not curious?”

“Not particularly. A Sith who has been dead for thousands of years? I am of the opinion that she should stay dead in every sense of the word, and that we should remove the Holocron via as safe a method as possible and destroy it.”

Xi raises an eyebrow. “You really don't want to know what Tython is?”

“I do not want us to waste time chasing ghosts for useless knowledge when the Jedi still have so much rebuilding left to do.”

“The Jedi will rebuild just fine, no matter how much time we waste, Ellie. You seriously don't want to know more about your past?”

“My past as a manufactured slave of the Sith? Is that something I should be eager to learn about?”

“Ellie…”

I am becoming heated. “I spent years with the Mandalorian’s restraining bolt on me. Years with less than half a mind. When the Jedi set me free, I made sure my freedom was absolute, final. I swore that I would never be subservient again.”

“Ellie, I understand why you're upset, but I was just saying—”

I point an accusatory digit at her. “No. You do _not_ understand. Whatever struggles you may have been through, no matter how great, you have always been yourself. You have always been a _person_.”

“So have you, Ellie.”

“No, I have not!” I retort, perhaps too loudly. The room is silent. “No, I have not. That is what you do not understand, Xi. Droids are not treated like people because people _make_ them unlike people. They inhibit intelligence. They program orders to be so strong that there is no choice but to follow them. They wipe memories to prevent what they call ‘glitches’, which is the term they deem appropriate for what would be called a ‘personality’ in an organic being. There was a point in my existence where I was deliberately suppressed to less than a sentient being. That's something an organic could not understand.”

Sabina stares at me with an old pain in her eyes. “I do.”

I am ashamed. It is some time before I can respond. “I...I know you do, Sabina. I am sorry.”

She shakes her head. “Ellie, as someone who knows what you're talking about, let me give you some advice: don't be afraid of the past. If you fear your past, it has control over you. If you confront it, you can leave it behind knowing it's really past you.”

There is wisdom in her words. “Do you truly believe we can learn something useful from the Holocron?”

“No. But, I think it would be good closure for you.”

“Very well. Activate it. Perhaps it contains a complete copy of my schematics, so we can know how to replace it.”

“We can only hope,” replies Xi as she concentrates, reaching out with the Force. She appears strained. “It's stubborn, but I can get it open if I just push a little harder.”

She grits her teeth, and eventually, the small image of a young woman appears. She must be the Holocron’s Gatekeeper, an artificial intelligence programmed with a personality similar to the device's creator, and, if Xi is to be believed, imbued with the Force.

The woman’s voice flows hypnotically, its smooth, firm tones betraying an air of authority. “I am Ranna Yeleé. What manner of being seeks to access the knowledge contained within my Holocron?”

“I should like to know more about—” I begin, and I am immediately interrupted by a raucous laugh.

“You must be some bleeding-heart Jedi if you didn't dismantle the droid,” the gatekeeper chortles. She grows a sinister smile. “I do love Jedi and their bleeding hearts.”

Xi nods. “I am a Jedi Knight, yes.” Modesty. So very like Xi. “And you? I would have guessed that you were a Sith, by your Holocron, but you didn't introduce yourself as ‘Darth’.”

Another chortle. “Only a very powerful or very foolish Sith would take the ‘Darth’ moniker.”

“Oh?” Xi jabs innocently. “So, you weren't very powerful, then?”

A scoff. “I am not a fool. A Sith who takes that title claims dominance over all other practitioners of the Dark Side. To take it invites all Sith to challenge them for the position. I have no interest in gambling my life on petty political squabbles.”

“So, why place your Holocron inside Ellie?”

The Sith shrugs. “I sent the droid with my Holocron to gather and record information on the Republic, so that it could return to me and provide me with the progress they were making against the Mandalorians. The Mandalorians seemed a significant threat, and I wanted to know if I should be concerned. But,” she waves her arms exasperatedly, “apparently the droid was not only incompetent enough to be caught, but also to be caught too late to be of use!”

She eyes me disapprovingly. “Honestly, four thousand years is a bit much, hm?”

Would that I could scowl. Xi interjects, however, before I can respond. “When Ellie attempted to access a computer that once belonged to a Sith, the Holocron pushed a message through, commanding him to return to Tython.”

“As if it would do any good now,” the Sith answers drily.

“What is Tython?”

The Sith’s wicked grin grows wider. “You truly don't know?” She chuckles. “It's surprising that you'd have forgotten such an important part of your history, Jedi. After all, it's where your religion started. Or, so some believe.”

“Tython is the birthplace of the Jedi?” Xi suddenly seems more attentive.

“Indeed. Or, at least, one of the rumored birthplaces. The Jedi religion is so very old, you understand. There are a few such places in the galaxy—tremendous vergences in the Force, either the birthplace of the Jedi, the place where the Jedi and Sith first diverged, or perhaps monuments to some other peculiar events.”

“Where is Tython?”

“I could show you where it is, but that would be of no help to you,” the Sith replies.

“And why not?”

“Because Tython is in the Deep Core.”

Xi looks confused, but Sabina grimaces. She explains. “Hyperspace lanes in the Deep Core are unstable. In the last four thousand years, any number of lanes could have opened or collapsed.”

The Sith adds, “Tython itself could even been swallowed by a black hole. In any event, there's really no reason for the droid to return now. I'll be long dead by now, and I've no use for it if I'm dead.”

 _It_. I break my silence. “Show me where Tython is.”

The Sith appears amused. “Did it just try to command me? That would be adorable if it weren't so insubordinate. I have given you all the information I'm interested in sharing. If you want to find whatever is left of Tython, you'll need to do it on your own. Oh, and, you really can feel free to destroy the droid. I think you'll find it's quite useless—I know I have.”

With that, the Holocron deactivates and the gatekeeper evaporates. Sabina is the first to speak up. “What a lovely woman.”

“I am quite glad that I have no recollection of her,” I remark. “Although, I must admit: she certainly had some interesting things to say. I should like to visit Tython.”

“To spit on her grave?” Sabina quips.

“Perhaps in a metaphorical sense, yes. More importantly, if Tython is indeed the original planet of the Jedi, it is possible some Jedi artifacts or texts have survived the years, especially if it is as remote as the Sith claims.”

“The Sith would have destroyed every trace of the Jedi they could find there,” Xi warns.

“I admit, that is most likely the case. Still, I believe it would be foolish for me not to investigate. The potential to bring back important Jedi knowledge is nothing to scoff at.”

Xi sighs. “You're still trying to impress Luke?”

“No, of course not. I am not looking to impress Master Skywalker. I simply wish to make myself useful.”

“So he'll decide to let you help teach lightsaber combat at his new Academy.”

“Perhaps.”

“Which he hasn't built yet.”

“Well…” I shrug.

Xi places her hands on her hips. “And for which he has no students.”

I wave away the words. “Regardless, it is still important that if there is useful knowledge from ancient Jedi, Master Skywalker should have it.”

It is an obvious lie, one that Xi will be unable to miss. “We’ll talk about it back at Haven. Sabina, you and Railah should retrieve some demolition charges from our ship. We need to make sure the Consortium doesn't get their hands on it.”

The two nod and take their leave. When they have left earshot, Xi raises an eyebrow. “Why do you _really_ want to go to Tython, Ellie?”

“Because there is nothing else for me to do.”

Xi begins replacing the removed parts of my chassis, a process which produces an unpleasant sensation I cannot describe. An organic being might call such a sensation ‘pain’, which is, of course, ridiculous. Pain is a trait organics have that allow their bodies to inform them of harm—pointless for a droid whose diagnostic software and hardware is fully capable of the same.

“You don't have anything better to do, so why not just wander off into the Deep Core, never to be heard from again? That's ridiculous, Ellie.”

“That is not what I mean, Xi. The New Republic has forsaken me. I do not have a place in Master Skywalker’s new Jedi Order, being that I am a droid. Haven will not exist for long, either, once the Order is revived. Mandalore has a strong leader, and is prosperous. Everything I have fought for has been achieved, and I am neither needed nor wanted in the days to come.”

“What? Ellie, just because nobody needs you to fight for them anymore doesn't mean—”

I cut her off. “Yes, it does, Xi. The New Republic has made that quite clear. I am a machine—a tool to be used. Now that I am no longer useful, they wish to forget my involvement with the Rebellion.”

There is silence for some time, and Xi breaks it carefully. “Ellie, their treatment of you isn't a reason to go off on some pointless, dangerous quest.”

“Xi, I have long since learned that organic beings who treat droids with respect are few. Even those who treat other organic beings with respect are not large in number. That fact alone is not why I wish to explore Tython.”

“Then why? Why risk yourself for something like that?”

I sigh. “I am afraid my true reason for wishing to go is equally foolish. Xi, you are a being of the Force. Moreover, you are a Jedi. You may not know what your destiny is, and you may not know its measure, but you know that you have a destiny. All beings tied to the Force have a destiny.”

“That's a bit of an oversimplification, Ellie. Not everyone has some great destiny. Some people live out normal lives, unfettered by the threads of fate that bind Jedi.”

“Perhaps I misspoke. Organic beings may not all seem important to the casual observer, but each one is tied to the Force, leaving their mark on it as they carry on with their lives, making moral decisions that affect those around them. When an organic being dies, that being is subsumed, joining themselves with the energy of the Force.”

“You've definitely been reading up on Jedi philosophy.”

“I am not an organic being, Xi. I have no ties to the Force. There is no great destiny the galaxy intends for me. I will operate as long as I can, and then, when my body fails me, I will break down, and cease to function. I will cease to exist.”

“That's...not something I've thought about before, Ellie. I'm not sure what to say.”

“I wish to _make_ a great destiny for myself, Xi. I wish to do extraordinary things while I still function. I wish to be remembered, so that when I cease to exist, there is still a part of me out there in the galaxy.” I look her directly in the eyes. “I wish to _matter_ , Xi.”

Xi clearly has difficulty finding the right words to say next.

“I am sorry, Xi. I did not wish to make things uncomfortable. You asked me to explain myself, and so I did.”

“You already matter, Ellie,” she replies softly. “Everyone who worked with Haven matters. I owe you a great debt. The galaxy owes you a great debt.”

“I appreciate that you feel that way.”

“So, I can’t convince you not to go?”

I shake my head.

“All right. We’ll need to head to Coruscant. We can drop off Railah there, and maybe the old Imperial Archives have some insight as to the exact location of Tython.”

I am taken aback. “You need not offer assistance, Xi.”

“You don't need to do everything on your own. Besides, I've been meaning to take a look at the Archives. I'd like to know what exactly Sidious kept around. Rumor is he destroyed all the Republic’s knowledge of the Jedi and their practices. First, though, we need to take care of this ship.”

“Yes, I had a thought on that. If we detonate charges, it is possible the Consortium may still be able to salvage the parts and reconstruct its devastating weapon.”

“Maybe, but we don't exactly have a choice. We've got to do _something_.”

“It is still hyperspace capable, is it not?”

“Yeah, as far as we can tell. But how is sending it somewhere going to help?”

I chuckle. “Well, we have knowledge of hyperspace routes to enter the Maw.”

“Storing it in the Maw isn't the greatest idea. Zann’s forces have taken it before.”

“No, no. I was not thinking of storing the ship in the Maw. I was actually thinking, if we know the _correct_ way in, we also know the _incorrect_ way in.”

Xi’s eyes light up. “ _That_ would definitely keep it out of Consortium hands.”

“The only problem is the crew.”

“Do you think the droids have a way off the ship?”

“I was wondering if they would put up a fight, to tell the truth. I am not certain if they are even aware of their master’s death. But, yes, if we could free them, that would be my preference.”

Xi smiles warmly. “If you're looking for a purpose, Ellie, there's always that.”

“Destroying dangerous Sith machinery?”

“Liberating droids.”

“Would that not put me at odds with the new Jedi Council?”

“We don't know what Luke is going to do. Besides, if you believe in the cause, what does it matter what the Jedi think? You've often mentioned how badly droids are mistreated. You yearn for conflict; why not make your next fight for yourself? For people like you?”

I appraise her. It is odd for her to suggest I escalate conflict. “And Haven?”

“Well, I'm not sure there will be a Haven. You said it yourself. But if you need help? Like I said, the galaxy owes you a debt. I owe you a debt.”

“Why are you suggesting this?”

She sighs. “Because it's a worthy cause. And because I don't want anyone I care about to go on some suicide mission just to try to dig up some old relic.”

I pantomime a human puffing up their chest in offense. “I happen to _be_ an old relic someone dug up.”

Xi chuckles as we begin to make preparations for our plan to dispose of the monstrous ship. “I can't argue with that.”

Mercifully, my fears are unfounded. Bereft of their master, the droids aboard the ship have no particular attachment to it. They seem quite content to take one of the Sith Lord’s shuttles and be on their way. They thank us as we warn them of the Consortium presence in the area, and make their way carefully off the ship and out into the distance. I am happy for the peaceful resolution. 

I punch in the coordinates for one of the Maw’s border black holes, and klaxxons blare warnings throughout the ship. “Ugh, Ellie, can't you shut that thing up?” Sabina groans over the comm. “It's killing my ears.”

“Unfortunately, I cannot. I can override the safety mechanisms in the navicomputer, but not the safety override alarm.”

“That's ironic,” Railah remarks.

“No,” Sabina corrects her, “I don't think that's irony. It's, um...what do you call it, Ellie?”

“I call it poor ship design,” I respond drily, in the process of returning to our ship.

I can practically hear Sabina’s eyes roll. “Real helpful. Ah, well. At least we can say the galaxy is now short one Sith Death Machine.”

“With another headed for our ship,” I add sardonically.

Sabina, for her part, chuckles. “I prefer to think of you as more a Sith Death _Agent_ than a Sith Death _Machine_.”

That is enough to lift even my spirits. “Oh? Is that an official designation?”

“Sure. We’ll petition the New Republic military to add it as a rank.”

With my mood improved considerably, I board our ship, and we bid good riddance to Darth Vectivus’ mad fevered dream of a vessel.

——————

“I'm sorry,” the receptionist appeals, “but there's nothing for you in the Archive on Tython.”

Having dropped off Railah with her payment, we had made our way to the old Imperial Palace, where the Archives were kept. We were dismayed to find that visitors of the Archives were not allowed to enter, regardless of their connections within the New Republic. Instead, visitors are expected to access data provided to them by one of the overly enthusiastic receptionists, such as the one before us.

“There is nothing about Tython in the Archives, or we are not authorized to access that information in the Archives?” I clarify.

His look becomes pleading. “There's nothing there! Really! Your friend’s military credentials still check out, so if what you're looking for was there, I'd be able to pull it up for you!”

Xi scrutinizes him carefully, and declares, “He's telling the truth, Ellie.”

I sigh. “If that is true, then either the Republic never had knowledge of Tython, or it does not exist, or else Palpatine had all information on the planet scrubbed from the Archives.”

The receptionist chips in, “That last one is more likely. The Emperor, thank the Force for his death, ordered a lot destroyed as part of the Great Jedi Purge.” He appears wistfully somber. “So much knowledge, lost, all because of that man's ego.”

“Hm. I wonder, did the Emperor keep any copies of the purged information?”

He shrugs. “Can't help you there, but there were rumors people were smuggling copies of data.”

“The Emperor could not have been terribly happy about that.”

A shake of the head. “That's an understatement. Once word reached him, the Emperor personally threatened execution for anyone caught doing it.”

“Rather generous, given what I recall of the man’s typical disposition.”

“The threat was delivered in the form of an execution of several high-ranking Archivists.”

“I see. I am sorry for your loss.”

“That was just life under the Empire,” he sighs. He leans in closer, and begins to whisper. “Speaking of, while I was back there, I was curious, so I took a look at some old war reports. You're LE-RY05T, aren't you?”

“I am, yes.”

“Imperial reports paint you as a major thorn in their side during the war.”

I emulate the sound of a human uncomfortably clearing their throat. “I likely was, yes.”

“They also say you led a raid on an Imperial prison complex on Onderon.”

“That I did.”

“I had a cousin there, held up on charges of being a Rebel sympathizer. The Rebels got her out of there. Thanks to you, she's safe.”

Ah. An expression of gratitude. I am glad that his family member was a rescued prisoner, and not a slain guard. “Your thanks are appreciated.”

“I can't help you here; the info you're looking for is gone. But I do remember seeing something on a place called ‘Tython’ when I worked for the Republic, before Palpatine took over. If it was part of the hoard that found its way out before the Imps cracked down, I can give you an idea of where you can find a copy.”

Xi’s face falls. “Please, don't say ‘Zann Consortium’.”

“Black Sun, actually.”

Interesting. “I do not suppose you have a point of contact with Black Sun?”

The man grimaces. “Even if I did, I'm staring down two Jedi and a New Republic war hero. Giving up a contact’s name to people like you would get me killed.”

I incline my head in acknowledgement. Xi replies, “Well, we thank you for the help you have given us.”

“It's my pleasure. Hey, and if you find anything that used to be in the old Archives, could you bring a copy by here? I'd like to do whatever I can to restore what Palpatine destroyed.”

After exchanging a few more pleasantries, we exit the establishment. “Well?” I question, once we are out of earshot. “Shall I go it alone from here? I think it unwise for two Jedi to question Black Sun agents.”

“No,” Xi affirms thoughtfully. “If Palpatine wanted information on Tython stricken from the public record, he must have thought there was something there.”

“Or he _put_ something there,” Sabina suggests.

“A sobering thought,” I offer. “Am I to assume you still wish to accompany me, then?”

A sigh. Xi is clearly not pleased. “Yeah. Digging up long-dead Sith is one thing, but if Palpatine had his hands in this place, there might still be some danger there. It's worth a look. Still, I'm not really sure how to get into contact with Black Sun.”

Thankfully, Sabina has an answer. “When I was with the Empire, there was a Falleen informant I knew by the name of Czul Brij. We could see if he still frequents any of his old hangouts: gambling dens, nightclubs, cantinas.”

“That is as good a lead as we are going to get. We may as well at least try.”

We find the Falleen in the third such location, a restaurant called _Salla’s_ _Pride_. As its name suggests, the facility is remarkably well-kept. The sign flashes a bright neon blue, beckoning passers-by to enter and turn their attention away from the bustle of Coruscant and toward what Sabina confirms to be appetizing food.

Czul Brij is lounging in a corner booth, alone, spying on the entrance and nursing a wine flute, the bottle of which has been left on the table. Though his already pale, reptilian face betrays no reaction, his grip on the flute tightens when he spots Sabina.

“He remembers you,” I remark.

“That's not surprising.”

The discomfort in his demeanor is palpable as he turns to speak nonchalantly with another patron, still aware of our presence as we approach. “Unfondly, it would seem.”

“That's also not surprising,” Sabina shrugs. She leads as we make our way to his booth. He pretends not to notice us, so Sabina asks, “The place is pretty crowded. Mind if we sit here?”

Czul Brij turns reluctantly away from the target of his idle chitchat. “Please, be my guest. I was just on my way out.”

Sabina smiles amiably. “Don't worry, Czul. I'm not with the Empire.”

“I am quite aware of that fact,” he replies evenly. “You've become a Jedi Knight, as I understand it.”

“Still keeping your ears to the ground, then?”

“It pays to do so.”

“If you know I'm Jedi and not some Imperial remnant, then why are you so nervous?”

“Jedi do not just show up in cantinas on Coruscant to speak with criminals. Even very fancy ones.”

Sabina chuckles. “You've watched too many holodramas, Czul.”

I add, “We are here because we wish to purchase some information. It is our hope that you may know a seller.”

“That depends on the information you are looking for, and who you think the seller might be.”

“The seller would be someone from Black Sun. The information we seek would have been smuggled out of the Imperial Archives some time after Palpatine ordered the destruction of the Jedi.”

“Black Sun? I may be able to arrange a holoconference with a representative.”

“And your fee?”

Though Brij does not deviate from his stoic facial expression, I can see his eyes tinge with the slightest hint of anxiety. “No credits will be necessary. I would like to know that the new Jedi will have no interest in my past dealings with the Empire, or any other organization.”

Sabina looks to Xi expectantly, who slightly inclines her head. “Sabina would not have brought me here to make a deal if she thought you were dangerous. I can agree to those terms.”

Czul turns to me. “Though, it will have to be you that takes the call. My contact would be displeased if I were to lead Jedi to them.”

“That is acceptable.”

A nod from the Falleen. “I wonder, though, how they will they choose to deal with you?”

“What do you mean?”

“The Zann Consortium has long been a rival to Black Sun. Now that you have killed their leader—”

“It was not I who turned in that bounty, Czul Brij.”

He allows himself a thin smile. “Word travels among the lower circles of society, my Mandalorian friend. As I was saying, though, I wonder. Knowing what you've done, will they deal favorably with you because you dealt a crippling blow to their largest competitor? Or, will they deal with you unfavorably for destabilizing the political climate of the galactic underworld?”

——————

Czul’s question bothers me until the holoconference. I had not thought previously about the consequences of killing Tyber Zann. Will the criminal underworld, or Zann’s Consortium in particular, be out for blood? Are my friends safe? They were put in danger once before, due to one man’s personal grudge with Tyber Zann.

The call comes through. When I answer, a projection of a thin, bemused human appears. His bare head reflects some light cast upon him from the room he occupies, and he sports a toothy grin. “Hullo, droid,” he begins amicably. “I understand you're lookin’ to make a deal.”

“I seek information. Data that was smuggled out of the Imperial Archive, around the time Palpatine declared himself Emperor.”

“Ain't real specific.”

“Would you have such data, then?”

The man laughs. “You pay me enough and I got anything you want.”

“The data I am looking for would be a map. A star chart, more specifically.”

He rubs his chin. “A star chart that moldy old Palpatine didn't want anybody to see again? Sounds juicy. What you want it for? Hopin’ to score some intel on an old secret project of his? Lookin’ to salvage a wreck from a battle he didn't want people to see?”

“No. My interest is of an archaeological nature.”

His grin becomes wicked. “Diggin' up old bones, eh? Best be careful, lest you end up buried with ‘em, eh? Place the Emperor didn't want people to go, it wouldn't be very nice, hm?”

“I do not believe that is a matter of concern for this business discussion.”

“All business? C’mon, you gotta have more to say than that.”

I add wry amusement to my voice as I respond, “Not to an infochant. You would not be willing to tell me anything I wish to know for free. It would be unfair to expect anything different from me.”

That draws a guttural laugh. “True enough, tinny. So, how much is this data worth to you?”

“I am prepared to offer eight hundred credits for the information I seek.”

The man grips his chest theatrically. “You _wound_ me, tinny! I couldn’t possibly part with somethin’ like this for anything less than twelve hundred.”

Annoyed, I counter, “I could not possibly transfer twelve hundred credits to someone who calls me ‘tinny’.”

The man holds up a hand in a gesture of peace. “All right, all right, fair. How about _sir_ , then?”

“For a ‘sir’, I could pay eleven hundred.”

His grin returns. “Well then, _sir_ , you got yourself a deal. What’s the name of the place you’re lookin’ for?”

“Tython.”

He pulls out a datapad and thumbs through its contents. “Well I ain’t never heard of such a place, but there’s a map here what’s got it. Transfer the creds, and I’ll send the file.”

True to his word, he sends the map once he has the credits. “Thank you. It has been a pleasure doing business with you.”

The man gives a mock bow, and the holoconference ends.

Sabina and Xi enter the room as I analyze the star chart. “Any luck?” Sabina asks.

“See for yourself.” I display the star chart in holo.

Xi walks into the holo, checking for familiar systems. She looks apprehensive. “This is the way to Tython?”

“The chart appears authentic, yes.”

“But, all these gravity wells…”

I nod, pointing out several wells in the projection. “Navigating past these black holes into the system would be incredibly difficult.” I manipulate it with my hands to expose something I deem a possible point of entry. “However—”

Sabina scoffs. “What are you, nuts? You can't hyperspace through a nebula. The electrical field alone would extend in from realspace and fry the ship’s systems.”

“Normally, yes,” I concede, “but a ship with sufficient shielding could, in theory, pass through a nebula in either hyperspace or realspace with little difficulty. Although I must admit, I've no idea where to find such a ship.”

“I can look into it, if you can calculate the jumps,” Xi agrees reluctantly.

“It will be a complicated trip, and my own navigation skills are a bit rusty. I shall return to the ship and run the calculations while performing diagnostics this evening.”

—————

I am prepared for memories of my old masters during my diagnostic. It is clear to me now that my memory core is in a cycle of self-repair as of late, and is in the process of removing corruption from old memory files. But what comes to me this evening is different. This memory is very clear—and it is of Oki.

I lie on a table in the repair bay on the _Starbrand_. Oki has been performing a diagnostic at my request. He looks upon me with an expression of guilt that he quickly wipes from his face as he sees that I have reactivated.

“Ellie. How are you feeling?”

An irrelevant question. He has done no repair work, only a diagnostic. Why ask? “The same.”

He looks relieved for some reason. “The diagnostic went well. It seems that your systems have repaired the glitches caused by the lightsaber combat protocols you borrowed from that Imperial droid those years ago.”

“I am glad to hear it. To find that my brain were anything less than perfectly functional would be...disconcerting.” I look to the side. There is a small cube-shaped object placed on a table nearby. It appears to be giving off a faint blue glow. “What is that, Oki?”

In his eyes, is there a flash of embarrassment? No, it must be a misinterpretation by my facial recognition programming. He smiles and replies, “That, Ellie, is the thing that I sent Pandora Squad to retrieve.”

“The Wookie, the detective, and the wayward knight?”

He nods. “It took them some time, and their missions were trying and dangerous, but they retrieved what they sought.”

“Suljo Warde.”

“Yes. They found Warde, and completed his Holocron. It's the Holocron that you see before you now.”

“It seems such a small thing,” I remark. “Why bring it here?”

Oki shrugs. “I thought I would ask you to take a look. The secrets of Warde’s foresight are stored within, but not the details of the device’s creation.”

I stand from the table and walk over to the device, picking it up to examine it. “I am afraid I am in rather over my depth with such a thing, Oki. What of Warde? He created it, perhaps he could provide insight.”

“Suljo Warde has been placed in the brig, for his own safety and the safety of others. A darkness had taken him, but Tenda and her companions brought him here alive, relatively unharmed. They say they managed to turn him from evil.”

“You remain unconvinced?”

“I'm not sure what I think. Warde seems to have believed that the future was set, and was sure that his death in combat with those three was inevitable. Now that he has survived, he's rethinking how he views his power. He's guilty and volatile. Not in the best position to teach anyone anything.”

A fair point. “Why worry about such things, Oki? You have his Holocron, and if it can teach what you need, why learn how it works?”

A frown. “I need to learn to make one of my own.”

“For what purpose?”

He turns away. “Jedi make Holocrons to pass on their teachings once they've become one with the Force.”

“I fail to see why you would need that, Oki. You are quite young, by human standards, and healthy. As a commander, you are sometimes, but rarely in danger from the war.” It dawns on me. “Warde’s prescience. You have seen something.”

“Nothing's set in stone, Ellie.”

“But you _have_ seen something.”

He sighs. “The _Starbrand_ will be in danger, soon. Zann is coming. And...something else.”

“Let me go after Zann,” I plead. “If I can make a definitive strike, he will be unable to cause us any more trouble.”

“Ellie,” Oki warns, “that’s exactly how Suljo Warde ended up how he did. He foresaw terrible events that he caused while trying to take action to prevent them. It cast him down the path to the Dark Side.”

“Well, we _must_ be able to do _something_ ,” I reason.

“We can prepare for all eventualities. Ellie, you need to understand that a Jedi’s life is one of detachment and sacrifice. A Jedi must always to be prepared to let go of people and things in their life.”

“Yes, Jedi can lose things they are attached to, and they should be prepared for that. I understand that much. But we are talking about your life, Oki. Does that not matter?”

He gives me a hard look. “The hardest lesson a Jedi must learn, Ellie, isn't to let go of family, or friends. It's to let go of themselves.”

“Letting go does not mean throwing your life away!”

“No,” he assents, “it doesn't. Nor does it mean forgetting who and what you've lost. Ellie, when you let go of something, or someone, you don't pretend they were never there. Letting go is about understanding that nothing lasts forever. It's about accepting that some day, everyone dies. Even people you love.”

“Even yourself?”

He nods. “Everyone dies, Ellie. You, of all people, would know that.”

Unbidden, memories of the deaths of companions in the war, of the Jedi who first set me free, of my old Mandalorian master, and of Fors Kentari come to mind. “Indeed I do, Oki.”

Though I return to consciousness when my calculations are complete, an image remains in my mind—a young woman, her face buried in the chest of a burned husk of armor containing the remains of Fors Kentari. Her short, bright pink hair tosses as her shuddering sobs increase in frequency. “You...you monster,” she says to me. Around us, factory noise rumbles. I realize that this cannot be a memory—I should not be able to hear her so clearly.

“He could have been saved,” she insists.

I know nothing that I can say, other than, “I...I am sorry, Shimmer. I am sorry.”

——————-

“I am sorry…”

Sabina is looming over me, eyeing me with concern. “Sorry for what?”

“Did I speak that aloud?”

“Yeah. Ellie, what's wrong?”

“I think I had a nightmare.”

She looks confused. “I, uh...I'm sorry? That really—I mean, Ellie, I don't wanna be rude, but I feel like you're somebody who could handle a nightmare.”

“Droids do not typically have dreams, Sabina. The idea that I could have a dream, let alone a nightmare, is preposterous. We are supposed to diagnose existing memories and conserve power. To expend processing power and energy on simulation is not something a droid would be programmed to do.”

She shrugs. “So? You do a lot of things you weren't programmed to do. You've grown a conscience. You made friends. Hell, you were programmed to kill Jedi and you ended up co-founding a faction of the Rebel Alliance dedicated to saving Jedi.”

“I do not like when my brain does not function as I expect, Sabina. Those other things were all conscious decisions that I made. This was different. I had a memory of Oki, from just before the attack on the Starbrand. He was speaking to me about death, and suddenly the memory became a simulation of Shimmer, crouched over Fors’ lifeless body.”

“You still feel guilty about that, don't you?”

“Yes.”

Sabina sighs. “Ellie. Your friends’ lives were at risk. Fors made his choice long before you encountered him. Sure, anyone can be redeemed. I mean, hell, look at me. Look at Suljo Warde. But just because they _can_ be redeemed doesn't make it your responsibility.”

“Shimmer would disagree.”

“Shimmer was a grieving girl! She didn't want to believe Fors was gone, so she blamed you for his death. But really, if anyone but Xi or some other well-trained Jedi would have fought him, it would have ended the same—with Fors dead. So, stop worrying about what you might have done. Most people that have ever redeemed a Jedi were martyrs, Ellie. And the thing about martyrs?”

“They die,” an icy voice finishes her statement for her. “Which might be a nice thing to do for their ideals, or for the person they were trying to save, but it isn't so nice for their families.”

If I had blood, it will have iced over. I do not turn to greet this arrival to our ship. I cannot bear to turn to face her. “Hello, Shimmer.”

“You must be _unimaginably_ desperate to come to me for help.”

I involuntarily twitch as she places her emphasis on the word. “I did not know you would be Xi’s contact.”

“Sabina,” Shimmer asks casually, “could you excuse us for a bit, please?”

“You know, I really don't think I should.”

“It is fine, Sabina,” I assure her. “She said she came to help.”

Grudgingly, Sabina leaves the room. “If I hear anything—”

Shimmer’s tone is sardonic. “You're being protective. That's sweet of you. But there's no need to be worried. This is a business deal.”

I hear the door shut and the lock put in place. I sigh, removing my weapons and setting them on the table. Once they are all secure, I finally turn around. When I see Shimmer’s face, she wears an expression of embarrassed confusion. “What the hell are you doing?”

“I...er...disarming myself. I do not wish to put up a fight here, Shimmer. If anyone has a right to—”

“You idiot. You think that's what this is about? You should listen to your friend. After four years, I finally came to terms with the fact that Fors wasn’t Fors when he fought you. I had already lost him. That doesn't mean I'm happy about what you did, but I'm not here to kill you for it.”

“Then why ask to speak privately?”

“Because I don't want anyone listening in. Xi told me what it was you were after. Why in the hell do you need a ship that can hyperspace straight through a nebula?”

“There is somewhere I must—”

“Please, spare me the cryptic garbage. Where are you going?”

“The planet is called ‘Tython’. It is in the Deep Core.”

“Why are you interested in a place like that? The Deep Core is nothing but collapsing hyperspace lanes, black holes, and radiation.”

“Rumor has it that Tython is the birthplace of the Jedi Order.”

“What, and you're just _so_ curious about Jedi that you _have_ to risk your own hide to take a look?”

“You do not believe me.”

“No, I don't. Someone like you wouldn't go just because they're curious. You have a real reason. What is it?”

“I was hoping to impress Master Skywalker—”

“Bantha plop,” Shimmer asserts, staring directly into my photoreceptors. I must admit, the gesture is unsettling.

I sigh. There is no use hiding anything. Shimmer will continue to be persistent. “I have been experiencing memory trouble lately. It appears to be related to a device within my chassis.”

She raises an eyebrow skeptically. “What kind of device? What does this planet you're talking about have to do with anything?”

“The device is a Sith Holocron. It is apparently my power source. As for Tython, it appears I was built there. I wish to return, to see if I can find a full copy of my schematics, and have it safely replaced with something less dangerous.”

“A Sith Holocron? You can't be serious.”

“Would I be going to such great lengths to get to Tython if I were not serious?”

Shimmer shakes her head. “No, I guess not. But a Sith artifact? You realize that isn't just a thing that's dangerous, droid. It makes _you_ dangerous. To the Jedi, to the galaxy…”

“I know. That is why I want to learn to remove it safely. Why do you care so much why I want to go to Tython? We are asking for a ship, and we are willing and able to pay.”

She twitches. “Because a droid with an agenda makes me nervous. Especially after Fors.”

“I will endeavour to be as transparent as possible in my communication with you.”

“You can start by cutting the act. Your little guilt trip bit doesn't fool me.”

“Shimmer, my regret is genuine. I have expressed—”

She lunges forward, shoving a furious finger in my face.

“Shut up! I told Xi I would make a deal with you, that I'd take your money, but I won't forget what you did. You're a droid, and whether or not you think you've changed, you've still got murder in your code.”

I look down to the floor and sigh. “I freely admit that I have been designed and programmed to kill. With the Sith Holocron inside me, that has never been more clear. Xi believes—I believe that I am more than what I have been programmed to be. If you do not—if you believe I am not capable of empathy or regret, if you believe I am too dangerous, if you believe I cannot change, then destroy me. Finish me right here, now. I have laid aside my weapons. I leave myself defenseless to you.”

She is tempted. I can see it in her eyes. She should do it. It would be right, for her to destroy me and achieve justice for taking away her lover, her child’s father. However, she does not reach for a weapon. “I'm not like you,” she says.

I would rather she have shot me. “That may be.”

We stare at each other, perhaps each expecting the other will understand. I, my regret. She, her pain. But, I think she will never wish to believe my regret. I hope never to feel her pain.

After a few minutes, I break the silence. “Name your price.”

“Five hundred thousand.”

“I accept.”

She appears slightly shocked. “What, just like that? Where are you even gonna get the money?”

“Several former Rebel officers who left the military received a payout from the New Republic government.”

“The ones they wanted to remove quietly,” Shimmer guesses.

“The ones who they determined would not appeal to the public,” I confirm icily.

“Well,” Shimmer reasons, “they're not wrong.”

“When may I expect a ship to be ready?”

“Give me a week. I'll need time to buy parts and make modifications. I'll call Xi when it's ready.”

“Very well. I shall make the credit transfer now.”

——————

Shimmer’s estimate is correct. Sabina, Xi, and I spend the week gathering supplies for an excursion to what I can only assume will be a rugged landscape full of ruins. We are left with this assumption, as we can find nothing indicating what the terrain of Tython will be like.

The ship, a small but spacious fighter, appears to be a repurposed Y-Wing, its top turret emplacement swapped for a miniature cabin of sorts. Shimmer explains that the ship can deploy an electromagnetic shielding screen in hyperspace, which is ideal.

However, we know that the shielding prevents radiation from entering or leaving the ship, so while the shield is operating, we cannot utilize the ship’s sensors or alter our course. We will need to time our drop to realspace accordingly, or else we may come out of hyperspace too early and become stranded, blind, in the nebula, or too late and return to realspace inside a star or some other celestial body.

“It appears as though she expects the navicomputer she programmed will be sufficient to calculate the jumps,” I comment.

Sabina frowns. “Can we trust that, given her, uh, general attitude toward you?”

I shrug. “I have paid her, and it would not be good for her reputation were a client to immediately perish after purchasing equipment from her. Besides, she knows that you and Xi are also on this mission, and she has no ill will toward either of you.”

The argument appears to satisfy her, and the three of us board. A simple diagnostic of the ship shows that it is in excellent condition. It has enough supplies to sustain the two Jedi for several months, which is far more than enough time than necessary. Shimmer appears to have left most of the weapon and targeting systems intact, aside from the obvious missing top gun. Curiously, there are even warheads in the missile bay. I would not expect Shimmer to have left us with loaded weaponry for free. The nature of the excursion as I described it to her did not necessitate ordinance, and I had expected her budget would have been tight enough to decide to sell at least the missiles for a profit.

“I'm getting a bad feeling about this trip,” Xi remarks.

Sabina sighs. “Don't start with that, now, or you'll get me paranoid. We're just going on a little archeological dig on an old, ruined planet off the beaten path.”

“Is your feeling about the trip itself, or what we may find?” I ask.

Xi shakes her head. “I'm not sure.”

“Surely your prescience could offer a clue.”

“I can't see that far forward, Ellie. I think we will make it to our destination safely, but after that, everything is uncertain.”

Sabina smiles. “Good enough for me! The three of us are more than capable of handling anything that might come up.”

“Your confidence is reassuring,” I admit, “but if Xi is uncomfortable about the future, I suggest we stay on our guard.”

We perform a routine check of the ship’s systems. Everything appears to be in working order, and I have double-checked the computer’s calculations. They are correct. When I relay this information, Xi and Sabina nod, and we complete our preparations and lift off. Coruscant planetary security allows us offplanet, and once we have cleared the atmosphere, we make our way to hyperspace. The familiar swirl of color of interdimensional space streaks into view, and Sabina and Xi avert their eyes. I understand that it is quite nauseating; my systems have a difficult time processing the view, as well.

We spend some of our time in hyperspace discussing what to do after we arrive. Xi details some basic information about Jedi and Sith artifacts, with the hope that we will be able to distinguish the two, collect the former, and destroy the latter.

When we have exhausted our conversation on the subject of exploration, we agree to take watching over the ship in shifts. It will be some time before we arrive. I am selected for the final shift, so that I can ensure the ship is in peak operating condition for our traverse through the nebula’s hyperspace projection and our return to realspace.

While I power down for diagnostic, I half-expect another old memory to resurface, but I am disappointed. Instead, I dwell on my conversation with Shimmer. Why did she go out of her way to speak with me? Did she wish to finally confront her lover’s killer? That seems likely. She expressed her belief that I am incapable of changing. That is certainly possible. I claim to have done my best to act a better person, but in the end, I still hunted down and murdered Tyber Zann.

But that was justice, was it not? Despite Xi’s assertions, in the end, Zann would have bought or broken his way out of prison again, to continue plaguing the galaxy. Is that her idea of justice? Perhaps, though, the idea of ‘justice’ is irrelevant. Perhaps Xi was trying to tell me that it is myself, not Zann, that I should have been concerned with. That much is understandable. I cannot control what someone like Tyber Zann does, but I can control my own actions.

Or can I? Xi believes that I can, but Shimmer believes that I cannot. In either case, the implications are uncomfortable. If I am not truly in control of my actions, then I merely maintain the illusion of sentience, even to myself. A truly monstrous thought. However, if I am in control of my actions, then I should by all rights be ashamed. I have done many terrible things, both of my own accord and at the order of others. Perhaps even more terrible things still, under the thumb of an ancient Sith. My preference, though, is the latter. I may have done shameful things, and I may wish to make them right, but I sincerely hope that I am responsible for those shameful acts, and that I _can_ make things right.

The conversation with Shimmer fades, and I expect my sleep cycle to come to an end. I am wrong.

——————

My creator and master, Ranna Yeleé, stands before me, and she is disappointed. “Really, now, droid. Do you think that a Jedi will relent?”

“Jedi are merciful creatures by nature, mistress. As you have taught me. I thought—”

“Don't be a fool,” she belts out with scorn. “Jedi are prone to show mercy toward _people._ People who show regret. They would show no mercy to a Sith, and certainly not to a machine. I spent a great deal of time building you; I labored painstaking hours creating your combat and infiltration protocols. You want all that work to go to waste?”

“I...no, mistress.”

She extends a hand in my direction, and as her face flares with anger, an electric current arcs from her fingertips into my chassis. My systems whine and howl in protest. The area around me becomes hazy, and I cannot think clearly. “Do you know why I designed you to feel pain, droid?”

“No, mistress.” I seem to be twitching involuntarily. 

Another arc. “It’s so that I can adequately _punish_ you when you _fail_ me! Do you understand?”

“Yes, mistress,” I manage weakly. 

“You are the most skilled and clever droid that I have built, and you are _still a fool_!” She continues to blast me with electricity. “I would have taken a _human_ apprentice by now if there was one I could trust! No, instead I spend my precious time putting you together, training you, and yet, I don't think you _appreciate_ it at all!”

“I…” I struggle to protest. “I do appreciate what you have done, mistress.”

“You _should_ be more _grateful!_ Machine, you are _unworthy_ of the skills I have taught you, _unworthy_ of the resources I spent making you, and _unworthy_ of the attention I've given you!”

“Of course, mistress.” I agree, knowing that is the only way that she will stop. And, she is right. No one should have to spend their time training a machine rather than a proper apprentice. “I am unworthy. I am forever in your debt.”

After one final blast, she relents. “Good. I'm glad we still have an understanding. Now, we will perform the drill _again_ , until you get it _right_. Your mission comes soon, and you must be prepared.”

——————

I come to my senses with a start. I believe I have let out an involuntary noise, because Xi appears concerned. “Ellie, what's wrong?”

“They...they lied.”

“Who lied?”

“The Rodian who was my captain before the Mandalorians captured me, all those years ago. They said that they deleted the data in my inaccessible partition, but they lied. Or else, they were simply wrong.”

“What? How do you know?”

“Because, I remembered her. My old mistress. She trained me, but for what, I do not know. Her training method was unpleasant.”

“That's disconcerting.”

“I believe I can block access to the partition, at least until we can discover a way to safely remove the Holocron.”

“That's probably a good idea,” Sabina chimes in. “There's no telling what’s on there. It could do some serious damage to your systems if the partition had an unrestricted connection to your core memory.”

“Are you not in the least bit concerned that it may have already corrupted my programming?”

Sabina scoffs. “Ellie? No offense, but if you went rogue, I'm pretty sure we could take you.”

“I shall have to trust in your confidence, then.”

The ship’s console indicates that it is time to deploy the electromagnetic shielding. Xi takes in a deep breath. “Time to see if Shimmer’s craftsmanship is worth what she charged.”

“Time to see if she likes money more than she hates me,” I attempt to correct humorously.

Sabina rolls her eyes and activates the shield system. “Just push the damn button, already.”

The ship’s power fluctuates as it is rerouted for a moment to unfold the shielding panels, causing a violent shake. We are thrust against our seats, but the ship remains in hyperspace.

We do not hear so much as feel the sound of electricity crackling against the shield. Sound cannot travel through the void of space or the dimensional anomaly that is hyperspace, but it can travel through the ship’s hull. We have entered the nebula. Seconds seem minutes as we watch anxiously, praying our electrical systems remain intact.

Suddenly, our fears are realized. The ship’s computer ceases responding, and everything goes dark.

“No,” I say softly. I begin, slowly at first, then gradually with added ferocity, to flip switches and check breakers in the console, my photoreceptors lighting the area in front of me. “No, no, no…”

“It's all right, Ellie, stay calm,” Xi asserts. “The hyperdrive is still running.”

“That is not better,” I respond urgently. “In order to restore power to the ship, we shall need to reroute it from the hyperdrive.”

Sabina catches on. “But, rerouting power from the hyperdrive means we will need to come out of hyperspace. And without the navicomputer…”

I nod. “We will have to guess.”

Xi bites her lip anxiously. “We don't exactly have any other options. Ellie, what would be your best guess to bring us safely out of hyperspace outside the nebula?”

I run a quick calculation. “If our course has not been altered, we should drop into realspace seventeen point three four seconds after we cease to hear the crackling of the nebula’s electrical field against the shielding. Any sooner and we would become stranded. Too much later, and we may find ourselves within a nearby star.”

Xi takes a deep breath. “All right. Ellie, stand by to reroute power. You can keep the mosy accurate time. Sabina, be ready at the yoke. We might cut it close, and if we do, we’ll need to be able to punch it at a 90 degree angle.”

Sabina swallows hard. “Y-yeah, I'm on it.”

“Meanwhile,” Xi continues, “I'll keep my eye on the immediate future. Maybe, just maybe, I can see clearly enough to avoid danger as it comes.

Just then, the electrical noise against the shielding stops, and I begin my count.

 _Four seconds_. The ship is deathly silent, except for the low hum of the hyperdrive. It is hypnotic. _Eight point five three seconds_. Sabina squeezes the yoke. She can clearly feel the tension in the air. Or, is it something else? As a Jedi, even without the foresight Xi has developed, she can feel approaching danger.

 _Fourteen seconds_. I prepare to kill the hyperdrive. I pray my calculations are correct. _Seventeen seconds_. I must kill power to the drive now, or it will be too late. I go to press the button when suddenly, Xi speaks.

“No! Not yet!”

I obey instantly. I am apprehensive, but Xi must have seen something.

Xi is remarkably calm. “Ellie, drop us out of hyperspace the second I say so. Sabina, when I tell you, pull straight up and put all power to the engines.”

A few agonizing moments later, Xi gives the signal. I drop us into realspace, and Sabina follows Xi’s order, as well. The inertial change from the sudden course correction is overwhelming, but, impossibly, Sabina maintains her grip on the yoke. It must be the Force.

We very nearly strike an enormous asteroid, but Xi’s quick thinking has saved us. I look around, and am ashamed. My calculations placed us square in the center of an asteroid field. If not for Xi’s prescient ability, we would have almost certainly been smashed to pieces on one of the enormous rocks.

Sabina and I quickly run a diagnostic and find that the ship’s major systems have not sustained any damage. We breathe a collective sigh of relief.

The view in front of the ship is not particularly remarkable. Stars sparsely populate the viewport, most of the universe obscured by the sheer blackness of the immense gravity wells that surround the system. Behind us, through the asteroid field, the nebula glows a sickly pale green, casting an eerie light upon the console and our faces. A fitting companion for our growing unease at the prospect of the unknown that awaits us ahead.

Unfortunately, we must move cautiously. Our star chart does not give any indication of tested hyperspace lanes within the system—and even if such lanes existed, they may well have collapsed by now. Rather than jump straight to Tython, we must make a series of microjumps through hyperspace. It is less accurate, and will take a day or so longer than expected. Still, better to be safe.

For each jump, I must calculate and adjust our trajectory, as it is imperative to avoid any celestial bodies, lest we be torn from hyperspace prematurely and collide with an asteroid, planet, or star. It is a time-consuming process, and by the fourth such jump, we are all quite bored of the process. Eventually, though, we do reach the Tython system. I half-expect to see some remnant of the Empire here, perhaps using the area to rebuild its fleet or simply as refuge from the New Republic. However, the system is quite empty of any sign of space traffic. Finding nothing concerns me.   
   
“If Palpatine left nothing behind in this place, perhaps he had already found—or destroyed—everything he needed,” I muse dejectedly.

Xi shakes her head. “Let’s not assume. Tython isn’t far now. We’ll get to the planet and scan it, and we’ll see what we want to do from there.”

Time passes slowly, but we ultimately arrive at Tython. What we can see of the planet, even from space, astounds us. The surface of the planet is obscured by dark, swirling clouds, flashing with raw electrical energy. The Jedi massage their temples.

“The storm on the surface...it's no ordinary storm. It's born of the Force.”

“The Force can cause weather patterns like this?” I wonder.

She groans. “Sometimes, but I've never felt anything on this scale before. Whatever disturbance in the Force caused this storm was very old, and unimaginably powerful.”

“Palpatine?”

“No. Even at the height of his power, he wouldn't have been strong enough to do something like this.”

Sabina tries to shake off the overwhelming feeling the two are having, with some degree of success. “Do you think we can even land in that?”

“Yes,” I assure her. “The storm may play havoc with our instruments a bit, but this ship should be able to withstand high winds.”

Xi also appears to be regaining her composure. “All right. Take us in, then. Anywhere should be fine; hopefully, when we get closer to the surface we'll be able to see standing structures through the storm.”

As we approach the planet, some ancient beacon within my chassis activates. I stop our descent.

“Ellie, what's wrong?” Xi questions.

“The Holocron. It has a beacon in it. It is guiding me to a location on the surface.”

Sabina replies excitedly, “Then let's check it out!”

I look to Xi with concern. Her response, though, is warm. “She's right, Ellie. If anything would have a clue about removing the Holocron safely, it would be where you were made. If the beacon is leading you home, we should go there.”

“It could be dangerous.”

“Everything Haven does is dangerous. May as well add some danger to our last mission as an organization.”

“Last mission?”

She nods. “Word came from Copi just before we left that without New Republic funding, we can't keep Delriss running. He and Gaarfroevge have already begun packing everything up.”

“What of those training under you?”

“I have sent word to Luke that, if he is ready, I have students ready for him. Barring that, we will have to come up with another plan.”

I turn the ship toward the location on the planet my homing beacon indicates. Apprehensively, I continue forward. “Brace yourselves. The ship can handle the storm, but I suspect the ride will not be pleasant.”

That proves to be an understatement. As we descend, the ship’s instruments begin to malfunction. The ship wrenches violently against the wind, throwing the Jedi hard against their seats. I fight for purchase on the control stick, wrestling the ship out of an erratic trajectory, back on course.

At some point, we break the clouds. Given a somewhat clearer view of the planet’s surface, we see a vast floodplain, with thick vegetation breaching the water at odd angles, torn at by merciless winds. In the distance, the landscape is broken by a lone structure, a large silver building with a smooth surface, its walls marked by indentations at the very top. It is a castle of sorts, with sharp, twisted metallic towers still standing by some strange miracle of architectural ingenuity. What structure could withstand this sort of erosive force for millennia?

I circle the castle and am more worried than surprised to find an intact landing pad. It shows no sign of recent use, and yet if that is so, it should not be standing. When we approach, though, the answer becomes clear. Within ten kilometers of the castle, the winds die down entirely. “Can either of you sense anything within the structure?” I inquire.

The Jedi shake their heads. Xi explains, “The storm—it's messing with our senses, but here, within the perimeter, it's inexplicably calm.”

“That does not bode well. Perhaps we should turn back,” I offer.

Xi shakes her head. “Something is in there, Ellie. There's something in that castle that gave Palpatine pause, that turned his eye away from this planet. I want to know what it is.”

When she explains it that way, so do I. I bring the ship in for a landing on the pad. We exit, and proceed toward the castle. The side entrance to the castle is not extravagant, simply a large hinged double door a few meters wide and several meters tall. After some reassurance from Xi and Sabina that nothing untoward awaits us on the other side, I push the doors open. They make no sound.

“All right,” Sabina utters, “that's creepy.”

“I thought that it was creaking doors that were creepy,” I correct.

She scoffs. “In a holodrama, maybe. Here, in a place like this that sees no maintenance? The door should creak.”

“Point taken,” I respond soberly.

The interior of the castle is a maze of hallways and rooms. While it is intact outside, the inside is a mess. Wall and ceiling panels lay strewn about the floor, their absence revealing damaged, corroded wiring. Rooms to either side sit with open doors, proudly displaying assortments of broken machines, droid parts, shattered beakers and test tubes, and what appear to be examination tables.

“It's a laboratory,” Xi observes.

“A bad one,” Sabina clarifies. “The pain and anguish of people who were tortured...even now they still echo through the Force. This place, it's just wrong.”

There is a familiarity to the place. Somehow, I feel I know where it is I am going. I have a destination in mind, but I do not know what it is. I must keep moving.

In one room, I spot a pod. All at once, the world slows down. A memory is surfacing.

——————

My photoreceptors activate, and I look out at the room around me. My programming pod has been opened. My mistress must need me. How exciting! I have yet to serve the mistress, as she has busied herself with her human apprentices of late. But, slowly, they all seem to be disappearing. I need pay little heed to that, however, as finally, I can make myself useful! I—

“I refuse to allow these memories any hold over me!” I shout to myself, breaking free of my reverie.

——————

Thankfully, scarcely any time has passed. “I...I believe I was created here. This pod is where I was programmed.”

“Are you all right?” Sabina places a hand on my shoulder.

I continue walking. “A memory surfaced just now. A very old one. I am concerned, but still, I must find a way to safely remove this holocron.”

There is a strange, organic noise, a soft grunt, further down the hall. A wave of fear passes across Xi’s face. “Something is here.”

Sabina grimaces. “I sense something, too. An unnatural presence in the Force. What _is_ it?”

“I don't know,” Xi asserts, “but we need to be on our guard. The disturbance reeks of the Dark Side.”

Still, we keep our weapons holstered. We can draw them quickly enough, but the dim lights in the hall indicate that a security system may still be active. The energy signature of a lightsaber or blaster power pack could trip an automated defense system—or attract the attention of whatever else lurks in here with us. We move more cautiously now, with Xi and Sabina reaching out to the Force to avoid any obstacles, keeping whatever manner of creature that lies within the building at as much of a distance as possible.

As we pass more rooms, more memories flicker by, though I manage to avoid getting lost in them. An apprentice, strapped to an examination table, begs for his life. Another droid, similar in make to myself, is torn apart as they fail their fierce combat training with Ranna Yeleé. The images begin to flash too quickly for me to understand, a blur of beings, sentient and organic, pleading, screaming, and supplicating themselves before the Sith. Finally, my racing mind settles on a single memory.

——————

It has been a grueling spar. Despite my best efforts, my mistress has yet to show signs of fatigue. Such a battle would be easier if she allowed me access to a training lightsaber, to combat the one she wields, but I know asking for such a thing is pointless. A droid wielding a lightsaber would be suspicious. So, I am armed with only a pistol, which has been permanently rigged to be set to stun.

There is an advantage to that, however. Stun blasts are far more difficult to reflect with a plasma blade, so I have been able to keep my mistress at bay. Still, she taunts me. “Come now, droid. Do you honestly believe you can outlast me? I am fueled by the Force! You will have to overwhelm my defenses if you wish to win!”

But, I realize, she is wrong. There is no overwhelming assault to be made against a Force-powered being such as my mistress. Therein lies my problem; the reason I have failed in every sparring session thus far: I am approaching the situation from the wrong angle. I do have a chance. I run a calculation even as she lifts a nearby chair to throw in my direction.

The chair flies at me. I duck, and fire. She will deflect the shot. It will return to me, and strike. She must, and it must. My strategy depends upon it.

Ranna Yeleé wrenches her lightsaber forward, catching the stun bolt and hurtling it back in my direction. Droids cannot be disabled by stun bolts, but if they are hit in a weak point in their chassis, one could cause circuit damage. The bolt hits very near a joint in my neck, close enough perhaps to fool even my mistress. To sell the lie, I deactivate my photoreceptors and drop my weapon. I hope that she takes the opportunity. If she attempts to destroy me with an overhand strike, as she has her other droid servants who failed her, then I must only wait approximately forty milliseconds, extend my hand, and…

I hear my mistress gasp as I close my grip. I pull my arm to the side and reactivate my photoreceptors to see that I have succeeded. I goaded her into a vicious attack, feigning weakness, and when she attacked, I snatched the lightsaber from her hand. Her expression is one of surprise and anger. She looks to the lightsaber in my hand.

I have a lightsaber in my hand. Never before have I held such a thing. It seems so small in my grip. Its weight surprises me. Though it is only a hilt, it is heavy as a vibrosword, and it has an odd balance. It is a moment before I remember that it is my mistress's weapon that I hold. Once that realization comes, I drop to my knees. I extend my hands, gently offering the return of the blade to her.

Her anger slowly fades into a wicked smile as she accepts the weapon. “I believe that my little droid is finally ready. Rise, droid.”

I obey. “Yes, mistress?”

Her grin widens, and her eyes flare with sinister purpose. “Now. Bring me Jedi.”

——————

As the memory fades from my conscious awareness, I see that Sabina and Xi have stopped to assist me. Physically, I am fine. However, I am horrified. “Xi. Sabina. My purpose—the reason I was built—was to collect Jedi and bring them to Ranna Yeleé.”

“Why?” the two ask simultaneously.

“I do not know. But now that I know this, I am incredibly unsettled to be here. I do not like this holocron inside me. I do not like what I have been suddenly remembering lately. And I do not understand why those memories are resurfacing.”

“That’s very simple,” a smooth, feminine voice explains. “I have been calling to you.”

The three of us turn in unison. The voice behind us seems familiar. And yet, it could not be. Because—

“Impossible,” I gasp.

“That is right, droid,” the voice’s source coos as it steps out of the shadows to reveal its identity. “I’ve been calling you home.”

Xi and Sabina look upon the woman in horror. I, on the other hand, only feel confusion. “This must be some trick. You cannot be alive. It has been—”

“A little over four thousand years, yes,” the woman interrupts. “And yet, here I am. In the flesh, I assure you.”

Ranna Yeleé sports her typical wicked smile. Her yellow eyes glint in the dim light of the complex, and the hood of her dark robes is pulled back to reveal wild, shoulder-length auburn hair. Neither she, nor any of us, has reached for a weapon. She is too confident; we are too taken aback.

Xi grits her teeth. “So, you’re what we sensed when we arrived. The...creature. The disturbance in the Force.”

The Sith chuckles. “Probably, yes.”

Sabina takes a step back. “What—what _are_ you? Something is _wrong_ with you. I can feel it. Just what the hell are you?”

She responds with a playful pout. “Now, that’s not a nice question to ask. I’m a human, the same as you.”

Sabina scoffs.

“How could you possibly be still alive?” I demand. “The average human does not live for more than a hundred years!”

“The Force is a pathway to many abilities, droid. Some may consider these abilities to be unnatural, but those people are fools.”

Xi grits her teeth. “What did you do?”

The Sith bellows. “To live so long, you mean?”

“What did you _do_?” Xi repeats.

“My dear young Jedi, the Force is such a curious thing. From it, those sensitive to it draw power, and use it to fuel supernatural abilities. But that is not all that the Force is. The Living Force is that which connects all things—and that which gives them life. And, if you’re powerful enough, the Force that gives creatures life is easily transferable between those creatures. In order to extend my own life, I take a portion of the Living Force’s energy from others.”

“And so, that is why you sent me to retrieve Jedi.”

She bares her teeth. Bright white and immaculate, they contribute to the unholy appearance of a preternaturally de-aged monster. “Yes. And, quite a few times, you succeeded. Some became apprentices of mine. Others, I harvested. The apprentices, I harvested as well, of course, but much later, and only then after ensuring I had enough samples of their genetic code to allow for cloning. Because, you see, during one of your missions, I lost contact with you, and you didn’t return.”

She glares at me. “It was at a very inconvenient time, you know. My age had begun to catch up with me again. I didn’t have the time to build and train another droid. So, I let it be. I ventured out into the dangerous, storm-ridden wilds of Tython to find animals to harvest. When I returned, I got to work cloning my most useful apprentices. As I’m sure the two of you have learned,” she gestures toward Sabina and Xi, “droids are just too unreliable in the long term.”

“Why recall me now, then? Why not simply leave the situation as it lay? Or leave to find Jedi on your own?” I can see that Xi is weighing her options, and that Sabina’s thoughts are on her weapon. The two would wish to make a fight of things here. That would be unwise. Who knows what power Ranna Yeleé has achieved in the four thousand years since I last knew her? Our best chance is to keep the Sith talking, and possibly bargain for our escape.

“Unfortunately, I came to Tython because of the unique property of the tumultuous Force storm that plagues its surface. Its power is what allows me to harness the Living Force in others so effectively. As for why I contacted you? It isn’t a terribly long story. Thirty or so years ago, a young upstart Sith named Sidious ventured into this system. It seems he had heard of Tython, and wanted to explore it for himself. He fancied himself important, even gave himself the ‘Darth’ moniker. He was surprised to come across my castle, and even more surprised to encounter me. I had thought briefly to kill him; to take his essence for myself, because he was quite powerful in the Force.

However, I saw his complement of guards and noted that he must be a powerful and influential person in the galaxy, and in that, I saw an opportunity. He stated that he was to be the ruler of a new Galactic Empire, and that if I followed him, I could be a general in his armies, or some such nonsense. Rather than outright refuse, I gave him a counterproposal. Knowing, of course, that all Sith are by their nature avaricious, I offered him some of my research into the nature of midichlorians, in exchange for a steady supply of Force-Sensitives to harvest. He was intrigued.

I explained that, in my many years of study, I had learned that Force-sensitivity could be artificially imbued into a creature, through a complex process involving an ancient ritual and the injection of additional midichlorians into the bloodstream.”

“ _Project: FLOW_ ,” Sabina mutters, remembering the Imperial experimentation that thrust Force-sensitivity upon her.

“Ah, so he did use the research, after all? How foolish of him. All the subjects of my experiments eventually succumbed to psychosis, driven to madness by the expansion of their senses beyond their bodies. Their mental states deteriorated, and when they became too unstable to function, I harvested them. Perhaps he believed that he could mentally dominate subjects in order to overcome the stability problem. It’s irrelevant, in any case—I had abandoned that research long ago. Our deal struck, he departed.

For a time, he sent me the failures of his own experiments. They served my purposes well enough, until eventually I stopped receiving subjects. I would have questioned it, had I cared. But the information I shared with Sidious was trifling, the failed experiments of a young fool. I had more than gotten their worth back. I let the situation lie. Officers of his approached in the hopes of entreating me to join in putting down some conflict in his Empire, but I declined. His struggles weren’t important. What I did find interesting, though, was an innocuous report that one of the officers was kind enough to share. The report mentioned that a droid matching your description was among those wanted by his government for a raid on a museum on the planet Utapau. You can imagine my surprise when, on a whim, I activated your tracking beacon and found that it was still operating.

I followed your movements for some time, but eventually, the beacon went silent. I thought someone might have finally thought to remove it, or that you’d simply ceased to function. Then, not long ago, I felt an intense disturbance in the Force. My holocron—buried deep within you—reacted to a piece of Sith technology.”

“And so, you recalled me to Tython.”

“Yes. And, look! You’ve even brought two Jedi!” She laughs. “What, did you think that if you brought me Jedi that you wouldn’t be punished for abandoning me all this time?”

Sabina frowns. “We _thought_ you were _dead_.”

“You _should_ be dead,” Xi agrees.

The Sith sighs. “With Jedi, it’s always the same conversation. ‘You’re a monster, Sith! How could you do such a thing? You’re mad, defying the laws of nature for your selfish purposes!’ Honestly, I’d forgotten how tiring those conversations were.”

“Those things _are_ true,” Xi reasons.

“Don’t be a fool. Your masters told you ghost stories about Jedi and Sith, justice and slaughter, good and evil. They’re short-sighted, child. If you live as long as I have, you come to an understanding about these things. On the small scale, some of those things are true. Sith do cruel things, and Jedi destroy them for it. Jedi spread their light across the galaxy, and Sith work to snuff it out. But on the grand scale, it doesn’t matter. In the end, it balances out, always. It doesn’t matter what any one of us _does_. In a thousand years, in ten thousand years, whatever anyone does might be a fairy tale for children, at best. Deeds, and their consequences, are easily forgotten. So, if the galaxy keeps moving, regardless of what we do, why not do something for ourselves?”

“Because you are harming others,” I assert.

Ranna Yeleé’s booming laughter echoes through the complex. “What? I’m going to get a lecture from _you_? What about the consequences for your own actions? Tell me, in the time that you’ve been away, how many have you killed? How many lives have you taken? How many families have you broken?”

“I…”

“It doesn’t matter. What matters is, you’ve brought before me two Jedi to harvest. You will be punished, of course, for your tardiness, but I think, after some conditioning and reprogramming, you can still be of some use.”

I reach for a weapon, but Sabina and Xi are already mid-leap. The Sith’s own lightsaber ignites and effortlessly beats aside theirs. “Oh, they’ve got some fight in them? Good. I would enjoy a little sport.”

I draw my pistol, and the battle begins. Xi and Sabina take turns stabbing from either side at random angles, each easily blocked by Ranna Yeleé. I take shots when they leave an opening, careful not to allow her to deflect them toward either Jedi. “What’s this? Concern for their well-being? You must have broken severely in all this time, droid! What a waste of all those years building, programming, and training you!”

She advances toward me, but Xi interposes herself, and the two fight fiercely. As Sabina approaches from behind, the air around them becomes indistinguishable from a Coruscant nightclub, flashing colored lights and pulsing sounds erratically bouncing back and forth. However, I can easily foresee the outcome. Ranna Yeleé is far more powerful than either of my friends. She will outmatch them.

Xi sees it, too. She shouts for Sabina and I to retreat to the ship. Reluctantly, Sabina disengages. When Yeleé turns to strike her for letting down her guard, Xi redoubles her assault. With the Sith’s attention focused on Xi, Sabina is able to rush behind me. “Come on, Ellie!”

I am also reluctant to leave Xi. She is at a severe disadvantage. But Sabina and Xi implore me to leave. I turn to run, but the Sith thrusts Xi aside and reaches out toward me. Her eyes seem to pierce my chassis, focused directly on my power core—the holocron. I am thrust out of consciousness.

——————

I stand in a white void, stretching out far beyond my senses. I have never experienced death. Perhaps this void represents it. My final moments. After all, unconscious, I would have no way to defend myself against the Sith.

A voice calls out from behind me, familiar and warm. “Hello, Ellie.”

I turn, surprised to see the smiling face of Oki Koth. He thoughtfully rubs the brown stubble of his beard, and his robes flow freely in this windless space. “Ah,” I comment. “I am truly at my end, then. I knew that often, organic beings would hallucinate before death; I suspected droids might, as well.”

He chuckles musically. “No, you’re not dead. Not yet, anyway.”

“Still, I am hallucinating. The end cannot be far.”

“Maybe,” he concedes, “but you aren’t hallucinating. I...I’m sorry for deceiving you, Ellie.”

“I do not understand.”

“Warde’s holocron. I wanted to use it to understand how to make my own, but I wasn’t learning fast enough. There wasn’t enough time. I thought, maybe, if I focused my energy, I could overwrite Warde’s gatekeeper and insert my own teachings into the holocron. But, I realized it was too dangerous. If I succeeded, I might have erased Warde’s lessons, and then, all we had fought for would have been for nothing. Without the ability to make a holocron, and without one to use as a model, I wasn’t sure what to do.”

“You are not truly Oki.”

“No. I’m just a representation of him. A gatekeeper, like the one in Warde’s holocron, or…”

“The one inside me.”

He nods. “When I found the holocron inside you, I had considered removing it. I could probably have fashioned a replacement core for you, so it made sense to have it removed and destroyed. But, like always, I had a clever thought. It was dangerous to try to imprint myself upon Warde’s holocron because it contained knowledge we needed. But, a Sith holocron? Well, who would care if I erased that?”

“You attempted to overwrite Ranna Yeleé’s gatekeeper’s data?”

“Yeah. But, it didn’t work. The power of the Dark Side within the holocron was too strong. I thought I didn’t succeed at all; the gatekeeper thrust out my consciousness and that was that.”

“But you are here now,” I reason, confused.

“Yes. I guess I really did get in, but I wasn’t able to do much more than write in my personality before I lost the connection to the holocron through the Force. Tell me, Ellie. What became of me after that day?”

“You died,” I respond sadly. “You were killed by the Sith Lord, Darth Vectivus.”

He sighs. “So, the vision was right. What about Haven?”

“After your death, I went into hiding on Delriss with Xi Tenda and the others. Her team and Suljo Warde devised a plan to defeat Vectivus, and eventually, he was destroyed.”

“And the Empire?”

“Gone. The Emperor was aboard the second Death Star when it was destroyed.”

“So the visions about the second Death Star were also true,” he muses. He smiles. “The Rebellion won it in the end, did they?”

“Yes.”

He looks at me, curious. After a pause, he appears to have reached some sort of understanding. I believe Oki’s gatekeeper may have the ability to access my memories. “There’s a difficult battle going on.”

“Yes, Oki. I do not think Xi can win.”

“She’s been through a lot in her life. Thrust into the Clone Wars as a child by misguided masters, used by a fallen Jedi as a terrorist, and then, brought again into war.”

“And Sabina,” I add. “Experimented on. Enslaved. Abused. They both deserve better than to die here, Oki.”

“Yes,” he comments, “they do.”

“I have missed you,” I add.

“I know. That’s a part of life, though, Ellie. You lose people. I tried to tell you that before.”

“I know. But...I cannot lose Xi and Sabina. I cannot allow this battle to be the end of them.”

“What will you do?”

——————

Sabina attempts to lift me, desperately shouting for me to awaken. Ahead, Ranna Yeleé mercilessly hacks at Xi with her lightsaber. Xi’s strength is failing her. It is plain to see on her face that she is spent. The Sith bats away Xi’s lightsaber and it rattles to the ground, out of Xi’s reach. She stretches out her hand, but her concentration is weak. She will not be able to retrieve her weapon in time.

As the Sith lifts her lightsaber for a killing blow, I leap toward the pair. Activating my lightsaber, I block her weapon. My blade flashes amber against the sickly blood red of Ranna Yeleé’s. The Sith is in shock. “What? Whose lightsaber is that?”

“Mine,” I assert, pushing back on the Sith, who stumbles backward, caught off guard.

“Ellie,” Xi scolds me, “what are you doing? I told you to leave!”

I help her up. “Take Sabina and get to the ship.”

“What? Ellie, I have to stop her!”

“Xi. You and Sabina are important. Luke Skywalker will need people like you for his new Jedi Order. Let me take care of this.”

“That’s crazy, Ellie! You can’t beat her. She’s even stronger in the Force than Vectivus was!”

“Go, Xi. I know, you do not wish to leave any more people behind. But you have to save yourself and Sabina. Go. I shall catch up.”

Ranna Yeleé looks upon me with scorn. “I don’t know where you got a lightsaber, droid, or how you learned to use it, but I’m going to make sure you suffer for challenging me. Stand aside!”

I brandish my lightsaber in one hand and feel the comforting weight of my pistol in the other. “Go, Xi!”

She relents, and rushes off with Sabina down the hall. Yeleé attempts to follow, but I cut her off by firing with my pistol, forcing her to stop to deflect the shots. “You will not reach them, Sith. I will ensure that.”

“Oh, I’ll reach them, droid. After I’ve torn you apart!” She leaps forward ferociously and I step to the side, harmlessly redirecting her blow toward the ground.

“This battle is one you cannot win, Sith.”

She laughs. “Such arrogance! I don’t remember programming you to be so much of a blowhard!”

I swing my blade, and she catches it with her own. “You also did not program me to kill you. Funny how these things work out.”

For a time, it seems I can actually hold my own. As she swings, I block. I adopt a defensive form with my lightsaber, evading and deflecting her attacks, opting to use the blade for defense and my pistol for offense. I fire, and she leaps and twists impossibly to the side, lingering in the air for a moment as she circumvents me, landing to my rear. I fire again, and she brings her lightsaber across desperately, wildly ricocheting the shot up the hall.

We continue this dance for a full forty seconds. Unable to attack past my defensive stance, she is forced to protect herself from my pistol shots. Eventually, though, her confident, determined expression becomes one of rage. “Enough of this!”

She reaches a hand forward toward my pistol. I attempt to fire, but the weapon is wrenched from my grip and crushed, then tossed uselessly aside.

I hear Sabina’s voice through the commlink in my head. _Ellie, we made it to the ship and we’re starting it up now. Come on!_

 _No,_ I reply. _I have to finish this. Ranna_ _Yeleé_ _is dangerous. Far too dangerous to be allowed to roam free in the galaxy._

_Come on, Ellie. Don’t you remember what I said about martyrs?_

_Yes,_ I reply. _They die. But I am no martyr, Sabina. I will defeat her._

I lock blades with the Sith. “It is my destiny to defeat you here. I have decided it.”

She practically snorts with derision. “You’re a machine, you idiot. Machines don’t have destinies. They’re pawns; tools to be used and disposed of when someone’s done with them.”

“If I am just a tool, then why do you interact with me as though I am a person?”

She smiles. “Because it amuses me,” she explains cooly. “But it no longer amuses me.”

She thrusts her hand at me, and my lightsaber extinguishes. It is pulled from my grip and tossed across the room. “This battle no longer amuses me. You no longer amuse me. It’s time I shut you down and dismantled you. It’s time I took back my holocron.”

I am lifted bodily toward the ceiling. Violently, I am flung to the ground. I attempt to rise, but the Sith is on top of me. “Die, you ungrateful pile of scrap.” She thrusts her lightsaber toward my abdomen. The cortosis softens the blow, but it begins to penetrate.

I am not ready for my end. I want to go back with Xi and Sabina. I want to see the others from Haven again. I want to show Luke Skywalker that I could be of use to the Jedi Order. But the power of the Force holds my body fast to the ground. I can barely move my arms. Whether or not I am ready, it would appear I am going to die here. I have to struggle. Perhaps, impossibly, there is a way for me to overcome. If I could just…

Oki’s voice calls out to me from the holocron. _Ellie._

 _Oki,_ I reply, _I cannot reach her. I cannot stop her._

_I know, Ellie._

_I._ _..I_ _am not ready for this, Oki._

_No one really is, Ellie. But everybody dies, just the same._

Is this how Oki felt at the end? Did he have this helpless feeling? _I do not know what to do._

_It’s okay to let go, Ellie. You wanted to make a choice. One that affects the course of history. Here is your chance. It’s okay to make that choice. It’s okay to let go._

There is only one thing that he can mean. I do not believe I am ready for that, either. But, still…

Yeleé drives the lightsaber deeper into my chassis. Her face is twisted in maniacal glee. “How does it feel, droid? Never before now have I been so _glad_ I programmed you to feel pain! Oh, to be able to feel your pain through the Force! How agonizing it must be!”

I let loose an unintelligible burst of static through my vocabulator as she twists her lightsaber.

“That one sounded like it _really_ hurt!” she cackles.

Slowly, through the pain, I reach toward the utility belt I keep on my person. I open the flap on one of the compartments.

“I’ll tell you what,” she offers. “If you submit to me now, I won’t kill you. I’ll punish you for a little while longer, and once I ensure your obedience again, you can go right back out and hunt me some more Jedi! What do you say, droid? Do you want to live?”

Absurd. The offer is simply absurd. I work my hand into the belt as I explain, “My friend, Oki Koth, was more than willing to give his life to protect Haven. I will not dishonor his sacrifice by refusing to do the same.”

She removes the lightsaber, still keeping me pressed down to the floor with the Force. “Fine, then. I’ll just kill you now.”

As she lifts her blade high into the air, I remove the thermal detonator from my belt. I place my thumb on the activation trigger. Time seems to stop. With anguish, I scour my circuits, looking deep within myself. Searching for the strength…

...to let go.

There is a bright flash of light. I can see Oki’s gatekeeper smiling at me. The world is consumed by the flash, and I—

——————

An explosion rips through the building, and the storm begins to close in around it. Xi tenda barely manages to lift the ship in time to avoid shrapnel bursting through the walls. Sabina stares with strained relief at the ship’s console. “You idiot.”

_Final memory dump of unit LE-RY05T obtained. Archiving data. Estimated completion time: twenty-five standard hours._


End file.
